Ginevra
by TheQueenoftheNight
Summary: By a strange twist of fate, Ginny Weasley is forced to stay in Lucius Malfoy's home somewhere a seed of respect is planted, which blossoms into a friendship and maybe something else. L&G - major AU post Half-Blood Prince.
1. The Man With the Purple Champagne

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series, I only like to play with the characters. I'm a penniless college student so it's pointless to sue, you won't get anything worthwhile.

Author's note: Lucius/Ginny is a surprisingly popular pairing these days. It's bold, it's edgy, it's original, and it sure as heck is never going to happen in the books. I've read a lot of fics featuring the pair, and I've liked a few of them immensely, but no one has ever written a fic I could put my finger on and say, "There, that is _exactly_ what I imagine their courtship would be like," as I have with some other pairings/plotlines. So I endeavor to compose a piece of fanfiction that does this, at least for me. I adore good reviews, and if you see a glaring grammatical/spelling error (sometimes I update too quickly for my own good), don't hesitate to point it out.

Ginevra – Prologue  
_The Man With the Purple Champagne_

Dancers swirled in all directions, rotating to the flow of the orchestral music being played by the smallish band of musicians spaced out around a wooden platform in the corner of the large ballroom.

From all around the room came the sound of at least a hundred feet in various types of shoes, scuffing, tapping, scraping, pattering across the marble floor - a natural rhythmic percussion echoing and enhancing the beat of the harmonically lilting waltz music.

Old men in silken robes sporting long white beards conversed together of many things of the past - the good times, the bad times; small things that would never be added to the pages of a History of Magic textbook.

Young ladies and young gentlemen bedecked in their best robes, and some even in muggle fashions - oh how the wizarding world had changed after the fall of Voldemort! - flirted and helped themselves to champagne and the dance floor, with the occasional brazen youth trying his mettle in a conversation with the elderly witches and wizards discussing magical philosophy and ancient history.

Muggle born witches and wizards mixed comfortably with pure bloods...for the old ways were dead, they died with Voldemort, and lived only with the few remaining Death Eaters incarcerated within Azkaban and never again to see the light of day. The two or three pure blood snobs and possible Death Eaters who escaped notice or got off by "donating" a large pile of galleons to Cornelius Fudge's reelection campaign were hardly in the position to complain or try to uphold the old ways against the will of the majority.

There was a new atmosphere in the wizarding world, a spirit that took hold of everyone and seemed almost too good to be true. It was certainly pervasive at this party - everyone glad merely to be alive; to be able to enjoy life again without the looming threat of death and destruction. All the normal entertainments of a magical ball seemed suddenly new and thrilling, it was a pleasure merely to be there - for nearly everyone.

A tall blond gentleman, in perhaps his forties – and wearing rather plainer garments than the few guests who recognized him were accustomed to seeing him in - stood in the corner, a glass of charmed violet champagne in his left hand. He watched the lively crowd moodily, and one particular young lady especially, an attractive redhead in a muggle party dress of burgundy and black brocade, tipping around the dance floor in delicate heels of black. A goddess she seemed, small and pretty and young, and oh so happy to be there among her friends. She laughed, and her whole face lit up, her caramel brown eyes shining with merriment. She seemed oblivious to the world. He read cares in her face, recent pain, obliterated for the night by the wine and the music and the pleasurable company. There was something so familiar about her, but he couldn't place her in his memory.

The platinum haired wizard with the purple champagne wondered who she was, this girl, nearly as much as he desired to dance with her. He dared not approach her, however - he was there on the good graces of the host only, invited out of propriety, and had accepted on a whim. He was no longer liked nor thought well of by the vast majority of the wizards in this room, and was therefore relegated to standing in the corner watching others participate, or conversing in low tones with the raven haired, hook nosed Hogwarts professor occasionally making social rounds in the crowd.

After a half hour, the blond man was beginning to tire of watching the party. His purple champagne had dwindled to a mere drop, as had his spirits – he longed for the days when he was the center of attention at one of these balls, not the ignored enigma in the corner - this was torture, not entertainment.

Still simmering with curiosity about the redhead, he placed his empty champagne glass on a nearby tabletop and strode thoughtfully across the room to where his host was seated with his wife and a few of the couple's closest friends. As he did so, he passed the redhead and decided to allow himself one more glance at her. She was fascinating, he thought, and perhaps even lovelier up close than she had been from across the room. Once again he wondered who she was.

As his eyes grazed her face she turned, and for a moment she met them with her own. She looked thoughtful, as if she knew him but couldn't place him, and then smiled gracefully. He nodded to her as he withdrew a lavishly wrapped token gift for his host out of the pocket of his ebony robes.

After politely thanking his host for a "lovely evening" (_what a lie,_ he thought to himself), the tall blond man made his way to the cloak room, once again stealing a glance at the redhead. She was engrossed in the conversation of her friends around her, it seemed, but he could have sworn she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He left without another word to anyone.

The redhead craned her neck to see where the intriguing ashen-haired gentleman had gone after he passed by her once again. It seemed he'd left, she decided, and she was disappointed, though she knew not why. He seemed so familiar, and yet, she was quite sure he couldn't be who she thought he was.

She looked down, collecting her thoughts, and her eyes came to rest upon a small, shining object about three feet away from where she was standing. Curious, she took one step forward and bent down to pick it up with a slim white hand, then held it up into the light to peer at it. It was a ring, composed of tiny silver serpents coiled together with rubies for their miniscule eyes – clearly very expensive, and probably someone's family heirloom. 

She quickly pocketed it with the intention of giving it to the host later, but was drawn into the conversation around her again by the slightly bushy haired brunette on her right, and didn't think of it again the entire evening.


	2. A Ring of Power

Disclaimer: Don't own. No money. Don't sue.  
  
Chapter two: _A Ring of Power_  
  
"How was the party, Ginny dear?" asked the small, plump woman on the couch. "It was great mum," Ginny Weasley replied with a satisfied sigh, as she pulled off her dark cloak and hung it up in the hall closet. Mrs. Weasley rose groggily from the couch and smiled up at her pretty eighteen year old daughter, saying with a yawn, "I'm so glad you got to go…you'll have to tell me all about it in the morning." She then patted her daughter's shoulder and headed off to bed with a sleepy goodnight.  
  
No matter how old Ginny got, Mrs. Weasley always waited up for her on the couch to ply her with questions when she returned from an evening out. At first Ginny found the practice annoying, but she had come to appreciate it for its warm familiarity. Not everything in her life had gone as she had planned and expected it to, and slowly she had come to appreciate the small regularities of her life, the things that never changed and could be counted upon to remain as they always were - like her mum, who for all her "reinvention" of herself, with the new job at the ministry and the freedom from responsibility for her now grown children, was as much a creature of habit as ever.  
  
Once in her room, Ginny slipped off her shoes and released her hair from the clip holding the front and sides back, allowing the large red curls their freedom around her face. She began to unzip the back, but with a sigh drew herself to the mirror to have one last look at her "party self" before she once again became plain old Ginny, and put the easy going, slightly flirtatious young lady she was with her friends to rest until the next ball.  
  
Over all, she liked what she saw, even though she rarely allowed herself to admit it. The youngest of seven siblings, and the only girl, Ginny had often been forced to show her fiery temper in order to gain any ground at all. The fire had always been there, it showed in her bright eyes and her red locks, but it had been somewhat tempered with melancholy of late.  
  
Ever since her decent into womanhood, there'd been that melancholy side, which aptly hid itself in the presence of others. She hadn't really thought about it till years later, but Ginny supposed her "incident" with Tom Riddle in her first year of school had caused it - being possessed by the most evil wizard of all time would certainly leave its mark on anyone, however strong of mind. But she bounced back with stunning resilience, and was thereafter so wrapped up in school and boys and the overthrow of Voldemort that no one ever worried about her, and indeed, she hadn't realized it herself. But it was different now, now that there was no more school, no longer a dark lord, and far too much time to think.  
  
Ginny sighed again as she smoothed the skirt of her dress with both hands, resolving to take it off and put it away. As she did so, she felt something hard in the small pocket on the left side. She reached in to withdraw the thing, and with a gasp realized it was the ring that the mysterious blonde man had dropped at the party. She had forgotten to give it to the host on her way out!  
  
She wondered if the enigmatic man would miss it, and moreover, she wondered who he was. He looked like a Malfoy, but that couldn't possibly be as she'd heard they were all dead. She put the ring on the desk for safekeeping; she would worry about it in the morning.  
  
The following day passed busily, with Ginny helping her mother clean the house for the arrival of Bill and his wife, Fleur - not having a job meant Ginny was expected to do all sorts of household chores. She didn't mind, really, but she found herself looking forward to her job interview the following day with a mixture of apprehension and excitement - apprehension that she wouldn't get it, and excitement to finally be getting out of the house.  
  
It was only in the evening when she retired to her room for a bit of reading that Ginny thought about the ring again. As she listened to the autumn rain pounding on the roof, she began to wonder if it was really quite necessary for her to find the owner...obviously he was a very rich man, and could afford to lose it; it would take so much time and trouble for her to locate him and send it back. She picked it up off the desk, intent upon examining it again - perhaps it wasn't even as valuable as she had originally thought.  
  
Upon re-inspection, she decided with a sigh that her earlier assessment was correct. She turned it over to find a marking on it, a name or something engraved into it, but the metal was unscathed. An overwhelming sense of curiosity enveloped Ginny, and instead of placing the ring back on the desk, she slid it on her middle finger.  
  
Immediately she felt a curious tugging sensation behind her navel, and then the room melted into an oblivion of colors and darkness.  
  
She was flying through space…  
  
With a loud flop, Ginny hit what seemed to be a marble floor and lay in a bewildered, breathless heap before collecting herself and rising on one hand. Her head ached, and she had a difficult time adjusting her eyes to the darkness of the room.  
  
Where was she? Obviously the ring was a portkey, but now what was she to do, suddenly finding herself in the home of a stranger?  
  
Rising a little further, Ginny scanned the room for any sign of where she could be, taking in the rich, dark furnishings and old style paintings, the inhabitants of which snoozed contentedly in their frames. Something caught her eye; near the fireplace to her left stood a figure, a tall, blonde, figure. The man from the party! With a scream Ginny sprang into a standing position. "Who are you?" She shouted, trying not to back away in her fright. "I should ask you that question," came the cool reply.  
  
With an extreme effort of will, Ginny mastered herself, and tried to explain her presence in his home.

"You were at the party last night. You dropped your ring, and I picked it up with the intention of handing it over to the host, but accidentally took it home with me. I was just trying to figure out how to get it back to you, when I ended up…here," she told him, once again scanning the room, and then his face, which was a mask of impassivity.  
  
"I'm Ginny Weasley," she added in answer to his original question.  
  
"Weasley?" said the man ponderously, a note of surprise in his voice. He drew himself up to his considerable full height. "We have met before, Miss Weasley, but I hardly recognized you. You have changed considerably over the years."  
  
"We…we've met before?" Ginny stammered. She had known him at the party, but she thought that was only because he bore a resemblance to the dead Malfoy.  
  
The man smirked. "Of course. Do you not remember me?"  
  
Ginny shook her head, and the man chuckled softly.  
  
"You honestly don't recognize me? It's been years, yes, but one would think I hadn't changed quite enough for you not to know me at all."  
  
"No, I don't!" Ginny exclaimed, beginning to become agitated that he wouldn't tell her who he was.  
  
The man smirked. It was obvious he enjoyed her discomfort. "Ah, poor thing," he drawled in a mocking tone. "Alone and at the mercies of a strange man."

Ginny said nothing, but felt her face flush with anger and embarrassment.

The man sighed. "Lucius Malfoy, my dear. You can't have forgotten my name, even if you've forgotten my face."  
  
She gasped. So the Malfoys weren't all dead! His gaze was piercing, and almost predatory. He made her uncomfortable.  
  
"I'm sorry I barged in on you, Mr. Malfoy," said Ginny, her tone becoming formal. "I'll just give you the ring and be off again. I assume that you're quite capable of creating another portkey?"  
  
"Of course I am," snapped Malfoy. "But I'm afraid you'll have to wait for me to get permission from the Ministry of Magic. They keep a close eye on me these days - waiting to pounce on me if I affect even the slightest infringement of their rules." He said this with no small amount of venom. "However, you may apparate if you'll step outside of the house." He looked out the large French window behind him at the well-pruned bushes and single large oak tree, which were suffering from the sleeting rain. "I'm afraid it's a bit damp," he continued with a slight smirk, "but no doubt a hearty young lady such as yourself will weather the storm. You can apparate, can't you?"  
  
Ginny bristled. "Not legally," she informed him in cool tones. "They closed the apparation offices at the height of the war, and haven't opened them back up yet."  
  
Malfoy cocked an eyebrow and remained thoughtfully silent for a moment.  
  
"Well then, Miss Wealsey, it seems you're stuck here for the remainder of the night. I can't contact the ministry until tomorrow, as it's past closing time. You may, of course, attempt to walk to the town and procure a means of muggle transportation - but I highly doubt you'll wish to do so in this storm."  
  
Ginny sighed. The prospect of spending an entire night in Malfoy Manor certainly didn't please her, especially since its only occupant was Lucius Malfoy. He may have paid for his crimes in Azkaban, but as far as she was concerned, he was still a murderous bastard.  
  
"Dinner is served in a half hour. I will have a house elf show you to a guest room where you may freshen up, Miss Weasley, and then you will join me."  
  
And that was final.

Author's note: Just getting started…


	3. Dinner and Regrets

Disclaimer: You know the drill…I don't own it, etc.  
  
Chapter three: _Dinner and Regrets_

Ginny followed the elf through the large mansion, alternately goggling at the expansive, palatial rooms, fitted with the finest moldings galleons could buy, exquisite, dark mahogany furniture, and beautiful dark tapestries, and allowing her dread of being alone with Lucius Malfoy to darken her heart.  
  
"What's your name?" Ginny asked the small, trembling house elf leading her up the grand staircase. The little creature stopped abruptly and looked up at her, focusing its huge violet eyes on her face. "Cappy, Miss," he answered tentatively. Ginny smiled kindly. "I'm Ginny Weasley," she said, hoping the elf would warm up to her a bit when he discovered that she was nothing like his master.  
  
Cappy opened the door to a room on the third floor, two doors down the hall from the staircase. It was a large, airy room with a giant four poster bed and a rich Persian rug on the wooden floor. The bed linens were white, and the wood dark, giving the room a slightly gothic feeling. Ginny liked it, though it was a world away from the small, homey mess that was her room at home.  
  
On the bed was a white silk nightdress with a matching robe; a vase full of fresh pink roses stood on the nightstand. Ginny peered into the bathroom and discovered that everything she could possibly need to freshen up for dinner was there, including a hair brush and clip and some ointment for the bruise on her temple, which had been caused by her rough landing on the hard marble floor.  
  
When she was ready, Cappy escorted her back down to the dining room. Ginny absently wondered just how many house elves a rich family could have. She had assumed - wrongly, she now deduced - that Dobby had been the only elf belonging to the Malfoy family, and she wondered now whether Cappy had only been there since Dobby's release, or if they'd worked together. She wondered if service there was as miserable for Cappy as it had been for Dobby.  
  
Lucius Malfoy was already seated and waiting for her when Ginny entered the dining room, but he rose courteously and pulled out a chair for her. Despite the elegance of this gesture, Ginny felt even more uncomfortable with him. The table was small, but bountifully stocked, and bearing lavish china and silver. Cappy and another house elf stood by to clear their plates when they finished with a course.  
  
Ginny had just made up her mind not to try to spur her host into conversation when he broke the silence himself.  
  
"You seemed surprised when I told you who I am, Miss Weasley, may I ask why?"  
  
Ginny looked up at him with an unintentional frown. "They told me you were dead, Mr. Malfoy," she answered slowly, "that your whole family had been killed."  
  
A little color drained out of Malfoy's face, but he replied softly, "And so they are. All except myself."  
  
Ginny hardly dared ask, but something about his tone and the wine and the warm food in front of her made her bolder than she'd felt earlier.  
  
"May I ask what happened to them?" she ventured.  
  
He looked up at her sharply, but remained silent as he cut a large piece of ham on his plate. Ginny was beginning to think she'd definitely crossed the line with the question when he began to speak.  
  
"As you know," he began slowly, his upper class drawl becoming thick, "I was incarcerated within Azkaban prison four years ago - thanks to your precious Mr. Potter," he sneered.  
  
He poured himself another glass of wine.  
  
"The dark lord felt my loss keenly, and made the decision that it was high time for my son to join his ranks - regardless of the fact that he had not yet completed his education. He was thrust into the very heart of Death Eater activities, I was told, and expected to fill my considerably more experienced shoes - which he apparently did with enthusiasm."  
  
He paused to think.  
  
"It all came down to a situation in which he was expected to kill several of his classmates, and though he was given over entirely to the cause, he was young - he hesitated, and they got away. The dark lord was furious with him, of course. He gave permission to one of his most loyal servants to torture my son for his," Malfoy clenched his teeth as he spoke, "…failure, allowing no margin for the error of inexperience. His heart was already weakened from battle. The woman tortured him mercilessly, either unaware or refusing to see that he was dying. So they told me."  
  
He paused in his story again, his grief becoming palpable to Ginny in her seat across from him at the table. She'd never expected this level of emotion from the evil Lucius Malfoy, and it comforted her somehow, to think that a man with such a cold heart could feel a loss so keenly.  
  
"I cannot say that I was sorry when I heard that the werewolf killed her," Malfoy continued thoughtfully. "No, not sorry at all."  
  
Ginny gasped. "Belltrix Lestrange?" she asked. "She killed Sirius." Ginny trailed off, acutely aware that Malfoy wouldn't want to hear about Sirius Black.  
  
"Yes," he answered, ignoring the second part of her outburst. "I'm sure you heard of the death. It was quite a victory for your side. Of course I didn't hear anything of the details until a year later. Nothing could penetrate the walls of Azkaban, not even news of the war." He looked weary as he spoke, as if it were a great hardship on him to be forced to remember it all once more.

There was a lengthy silence. At last Ginny cleared her throat and asked softly, "And Mrs. Malfoy?"  
  
"She took her life after the death of our son, if you must know," said Malfoy sharply.  
  
He paused once again, though this time he sat absolutely still and fixed his grey eyes upon her face. They were filled with incalculable pain, not the malice and cruelty Ginny remembered them to hold.  
  
"So here am I, _Ginevra Weasley_," he said slowly, pronouncing each syllable of her name with precision and palpable distaste, "the last of my family - _I_, who most deserve death - _I_ still have life."  
  
Ginny really wasn't sure what to say. For a moment she forgot her deep loathing of him, and her heart filled with pity - inexpressible pity, which surprised her as much as it would have surprised him had she voiced it - the "monster" had a heart, and it was clearly broken.

"I know you hate me, Miss Weasley," said Malfoy, misinterpreting her silence. His face cleared of emotion and became unreadable once more. "I suppose you have good enough reason. The deeds of my fellow Death Eaters and myself have not been unfelt by any of the resistance. I have performed more evil acts than I wish to admit to myself, or you.  
  
"But you needn't fear me. I am no longer the man you remember from our last encounter in the Department of Mysteries. The utter desolation and unending pain of isolation in Azkaban is enough to cause any man to rethink his actions." He stared at her.

"Yes, even myself."  
  
Ginny had been listening to him intently as he fell into a flow of speech. She wondered now as he pontificated if he was merely acting the part of the repentant one for her benefit, or if he truly felt what he was claiming. It seemed unlike him…but then, there was in fact the Azkaban factor…well, if he felt like apologizing, she certainly didn't mind. There was more than enough to apologize for.

"I have had more than enough killing for several lifetimes. It was once pleasurable to me, even entertaining - I was blinded by my lust for power, I see that now. I have not changed my position on our cause, but I see that the Dark Lord - Voldemort, ah, yes, I can say that now without fear - was the wrong man to lead us. A filthy half-blood," he spat, "intoxicated with his own impossible schemes. He often lost sight of what we set out to do."  
  
Malfoy's eyes once more fell on Ginny's face, and he looked almost surprised to see her sitting there, as if he thought he'd been talking to himself. "No, Miss Weasley. I will not harm you. I have had enough."  
  
Ginny was in a quandary as to what to say, so she took a bite of food to bide for time. When she'd swallowed, she said somewhat meekly, "Can Azkaban really change a person so much? I mean, the Dementors weren't there anymore."  
  
Malfoy's nostrils flared; he fixed her in a powerful, haughty gaze, though his eyes were clouded with melancholy.  
  
"The indignities of Azkaban are such as you cannot even imagine, Miss Weasley. I have seen hell; I have dwelt there. And it remains in my soul."  
  
After dinner, Ginny excused herself to go up to her room for the night on the pretense that she was tired from doing housework all day. In reality, she was a little overwhelmed with all the things Malfoy had told her over dinner, and required some time alone to think. She had never expected such regrets from him. His candor was overwhelming, almost to the point of provoking her distrust. He'd tried to kill her twice, did he not remember? She supposed he felt it was nothing personal. But it was _always_ personal to the one about to die.

However, she really had no choice but to trust him, she mused, alone with him in his home. If he wanted to harm her, he already would have done so, before he shared his table and tried to lull her into a false sense of security with his apologetic words. The redhaired girl wondered what new revelations the following dawn would bring, when she had chance to speak with him once more.

Author's notes: This was a really hard chapter to write, honestly. I was afraid I would rush things and risk Lucius Malfoy's character - I wouldn't want anyone thinking he's nice or anything. My lovely beta reader and best friend, MoonyBlues, read it and said she thought it was good, especially the Draco part - she's a big Draco fan - so I decided not to worry about it too much. No one in this fic is meant to be OOC, I'm merely filling in a lot of blanks where the series hasn't gone yet and for the things we don't know about Lucius and Ginny do to their secondary (even less, really, for Lucius) status in the books. I don't imagine an abusive relationship between the junior and senior Malfoy, unlike a lot of fanfiction writers - inspired, apparently, by the performance by Jason Isaacs in the film. Although I love Mr. Isaacs' socks off, I must say I think he had the wrong idea in treating Draco badly. I wouldn't say that Lucius Malfoy is supposed to be an extremely loving father, but I also wouldn't say he's evil and abusive towards his son. The books point towards a rather close(ish) relationship between the two Malfoy men, and that's where I'm going with it in this fic. 


	4. Tea and Sympathy

Disclaimer: Me no own!

Opening A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to get this one up, readers. (All five of you!) I got a bit distracted by Return of the King, I'm afraid, and I've found my LotR and Harry Potter obsessions really don't cohabitate very well (that's not going to stop me from writing a crossover though. Mwaha!). Also, my ruddy mac has been automatically and sporadically shutting down programs again, so I lost quite a bit of this chapter at various times. Grr! Here it is though, complete and reassembled. Thanks for your patience. This chapter is dedicated to my good friend Eryn, who said this fic was "bloody brilliant," and totally made my week. :-D

AuroraNoctifer: Thank you sooooo much for your comments – that really means a lot to me. I was a bit worried about the way I'd done a few things, but you've banished my fears. I am eternally grateful – I hope this chapter lives up.

Julkat007 and Lucius Magical Pimp Stick (nice name): I am definitely going to keep updating this one. Got the whole thing planned out in me 'ead, it would be silly of me to let it rest. Thanks for your comments!

Electryone: He's not really in "awe" of her beauty – just a little fascinated by her in general, as she is with him. I had to show some attraction there. ;-) Thanks for your comments!

Rune: Yeah, I'm a bad girl, but so are you….mwaha. Love your story, by the way. Update on Blanc et Noir soon, will you? That last chapter was a bit of a cliffhanger. I dunno what they did to Lucius…maybe they didn't allow him the latest copy of Playwizard and his weekly pedicure? ;-) No seriously, I was imagining grunge, chains, beatings, unforgiveables and the whole nine yards.

Um yes, reviews are always appreciated. tries not to beg

_Chapter four: Tea and Sympathy_

Ginny awoke to the sound of rain tapping gently on the windowpane. Though her unconscious mind had retained the knowledge of where she was and what she was doing there, she felt strangely disoriented. She rose groggily and peered at the clock on the bedside table; she was surprised to see that it was quite late, already nearing eleven o'clock.

"Cappy has brought Miss Weasley's breakfast," squeaked a voice at the foot of Ginny's bed, startling her considerably in her morning-induced brain fog. The elf put a tray laden with bacon, toast and eggs on her lap and then stood looking up at her curiously as she thanked him.

"Cappy has washed Miss Weasley's clothes," he informed her, "he has put them on the chair." Cappy indicated the large white easy chair by the window. Once again Ginny thanked him, but he remained standing at the foot of her bed, staring up at her.

"If Cappy may be so bold," squeaked the elf in a timid voice, "he has not seen so pretty a lady in a long time – not since Mistress left."

_So is that what he was told?_ Thought Ginny. "Thank you Cappy," she said modestly. He smiled a toothless smile at her for a split second and then his face became serious again.

"Master has asked that Miss Weasley join him in the drawing room for coffee when Miss Weasley is dressed," he gave her a courtly bow, and then disappeared.

Ginny hoped she could find the drawing room on her own.

…

After she finished breakfast, dressed, and brushed her hair and teeth, Ginny set out to find the drawing room. Fortunately, she was met by Cappy on the way down and ushered through the expansive halls into a medium sized room decorated in green and black, with leather armchairs centered around a forest green Persian rug facing the large fireplace on the opposite wall.

Malfoy was seated in one of the black armchairs closest to the fire, staring into its brilliant orange depths.

Ginny felt a chill run through her to look at him seated there, cold, impassive; imperious. She felt fear of him once more, fear that had been banished after their conversation over dinner the night before. She approached slowly.

"Ahh, Miss Weasley," Malfoy greeted her, "I trust you slept well enough?"

"Yes, thank you, the bed was very comfortable," Ginny replied a little stiffly, settling into the chair across from him. Cappy poured her a cup of coffee and made himself scarce.

"I owled the ministry first thing this morning, Miss Weasley," Malfoy informed her, "but I don't expect a reply from them until this evening. They're not usually very prompt," he commented with a sneer.

Ginny had a sudden thought.

"Why didn't you floo me home last night, Mr. Malfoy?" She wondered why she hadn't thought of it before.

"For the very good reason that I'm not connected to the Floo Network," Malfoy replied, and then with a half sneer said, "Do you not think I would have done so last night if it had been an option?"

"Why aren't you connected?" Ginny asked curiously, choosing to ignore the incendiary tone of his question.

Malfoy sighed. "After I was released from Azkaban prison I had an endless stream of visitors to offer their 'condolences' for the loss of my wife and son – and to gawk at me and collect fodder for gossip about my sanity. One day I found my study vandalized and decided it had gone too far. I had myself disconnected immediately. Is that a good enough reason for you?"

"Yes, of course it is," Ginny replied with a scowl, feeling that he was in a rather rude and inflammatory mood that morning.

Malfoy scowled as well. "If I ever locate the bastard who invented the _brilliant_ tradition of visiting a person when their loved ones have died, I will personally crucio him," he drawled irritably.

Ginny nodded serenely at his remark. "It was probably someone had never experienced the loss of a loved one," she offered. "When we lost Charlie we had all manner of witches and wizards coming in and out. I don't know how my mother felt, but _I_ certainly didn't feel like entertaining."

"Charlie…he was your brother?" asked Malfoy.

"Yes, the second oldest of my family. We lost him in the war. It was a difficult time for all of us. Harry took me away for a day when I felt I couldn't stand it any longer – oh how I thought he was a hero for it at the time." Ginny's tone was bitter, causing Malfoy to cock a blond eyebrow.

"You don't sound very pleased with him now, Miss Weasley. Might I inquire why?"

It was not a request. Malfoy never requested – he ordered. She felt strange to be talking so personally with him, but why not? The rest of the wizarding world knew about it, why not Malfoy? He was bound to be more sympathetic than anyone else given his position, she reasoned.

Ginny cleared her throat. "I was supposed to marry him, Mr. Malfoy. We dated all through our last year of Hogwarts, and as most couples do, we made plans for a future together," Ginny was becoming unconsciously stiff in her manner, as she recalled the events so fresh in her heart.

"You know Harry, my brother Ron, and Ron's fiancé Hermione had to repeat their last year since they missed so much school during the war. I guess Harry was pretty confused after that," she sighed.

"This year instead of settling down as planned, he decided to take a job working for the New York branch of Gringott's. Ron too, but he'll be back over the Christmas holiday. I'd thought Harry was going to take me with him…but no such luck. Harry needed 'space,' he said. You know, after 'all of that stuff with Voldemort'."

She looked up at Malfoy with eyes filled with hurt and anger. "Space, I understood, but not space from _me_! I thought I was part of the solution, not the problem."

Malfoy looked as sympathetic as a cold-hearted bastard could possibly manage.

"I built all my future plans around the thought that I was going to be Harry's wife, so I have no plans now," said Ginny bitterly, acutely aware of how strange it was for her to be pouring her heart out to the blond wizard, on many levels.

"I'm certain it has been difficult for you, Miss Weasley," spoke Malfoy softly. "Women are often the ones who suffer most from war of any kind. I will not attempt to speak on the matter of Potter – we are both quite aware, I think, that I hate him. I don't believe you will trust me if I confide that I don't think him worthy," he said with a slight, malevolent smile.

Ginny laughed suddenly, though she had been close to tears. "Oh I don't hate him. I understand it, I suppose. I'm angry at myself for not seeing it coming."

"Pardon me, Miss Weasley," Malfoy sneered, "if I say I'm not surprised that you still somehow forgive 'Perfect Potter' even after he used you so ill." He clenched his teeth and a nasty look came over his face. "Potter has always gotten away with murder," he murmered darkly.

_So Malfoy can be 'nice,"_ Ginny thought, _but only for a short period of time_. It was obviously past that time. She squared herself in her chair and returned to the stiff manner of speaking. "Mr. Malfoy," she said crisply, "since you've never done anything to help others in your life, you obviously don't understand. After everything Harry sacrificed for the cause, it was only fair to allow him a certain amount of…room – in all things."

Malfoy stared at his lap irritably for a moment without speaking. Ginny decided a subject change was in order.

"'Perfect Potter,'" she repeated. "I've heard that name before. Did you call Harry's father that in school?"

"No, actually," replied Malfoy, his tone easing slightly, "I didn't know James Potter in school, he was two or three years behind me, and I didn't associate with students from other houses unless necessary. I must have picked it up from Draco."

"Ah yes!" Ginny exclaimed. "That's where I heard it! Your son called him that a lot."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "You knew my son, Miss Weasley?" he asked.

Ginny nodded. "I was in school with him for five years. I even played seeker against him when they needed a fill-in seeker for the Gryffindor team." She purposefully avoided mentioning Harry's name again.

After looking thoughtful for a moment, Malfoy turned back to her with a far more pleasant look upon his face. "What sort of things do you remember about him?"

"Well," Ginny began slowly, "I wasn't in the same house or year as him, so I don't know how much I have to tell you…," She paused to think – her impression of Draco Malfoy had been almost entirely negative. She searched her mind for something nice to say.

"He always got high marks in Potions," she said hesitantly, "it annoyed the hell out of Hermione."

Malfoy chuckled appreciatively as she thought a moment more. "He was a really excellent flyer, too. I'm really glad I only had to play him the once, when Harry got sick." She cursed herself mentally for mentioning Harry, but Malfoy didn't seem to notice.

"He was pretty creative, too…he wrote this song once, you know, for Quidditch, and even though it was against my own brother, I must admit it was rather clever."

"How did it go?" asked Malfoy.

_Damn_, thought Ginny, _I am NOT singing for that man_. She tried to hum it to get the words. "Weasley is our King. He always lets the quaffle in. That's why the Slytherins all sing – Weasley is our King," she recited. "That's all I can remember now, though there was more."

"I wish I'd been able to hear it," said Malfoy a little wistfully. He seemed dreadfully sad. Ginny wondered if telling him her recollections was really such a good idea.

"I didn't know him very well, Mr. Malfoy, but I'm certain your son would have made you proud in school," she assured him. Perhaps it wasn't entirely true – but then, Malfoy was Malfoy, and it was possible he'd be proud of his little git of a son for his haughty attitude and incendiary remarks.

Pride was not on his face right then, however. Only grief. Ginny felt more than sorry for him…she felt a unique and unspeakable kinship with him. There in his face was the melancholy she had so long felt.

Closing Author's note: Whew, lots of dialogue in this one. Next chapter we'll move into something more interesting, I promise! Incidentally, I am not trying to paint Harry as a bad person. I like Harry Potter, but anyone can understand how he'd have "issues" after everything he went through (and has yet to go through!) Lucius isn't very sympathetic because he's Lucius, and he has a point…but I don't want anyone to think I'm hating on Harry.


	5. Ginny's Choice

Disclaimer: Mystical voice When I look into my teacup, the tealeaves tell me I doooo nooot owwwnnn ttheee Haaarryyy Pooottteeerrr chaarraaccteerrsss!

MoonyBlues: You'll just have to wait, young lady – we don't get to that part for a long time. :-P For now you're going to have to live with reading lots of conversations and thoughts. Mwhaha! Btw – gay dong?! slaps forehead I hope you remembered the mind cleaner when you went off to school, Rachel.

Faenauliel: Woohoo, thanks for reviewing, auntie! You knows what we likes! :-D smooches to ye Is Malfoy _nice_?! Oh carp. I didn't intend for him to sound _nice_. I'm going to have to make him do something really awful now. :-P …Hehe, find a good Harry Potter rp and I _shall_ join, my dearest aunt.

EmmyHart: Here's your update! Yep, he loved his family. Well – mostly just Draco. But then, who wouldn't? ::wink, wink, nudge, nudge, Moony::

Lainniss: Oh Ith! Your comments mean a lot! I'm so glad you find it believable. I was kind of wondering after all I struggled with in the last chapter. Keep working on The Letter, I need to know what happens! ;-)

ErynUndumiel: ::hugs Eryn:: Always for you, my dear.

FallenAngel664: I fixed that problem, as you can see. Now I hope it doesn't do that in this chapter, or I'm going to tear my hair out. :-P Thank you for your nice comments; I really appreciate hearing that you like the interaction between Ginny and Lucius. I worry that it's not good enough. :-P

_Chapter Five: The Decision_

Lunch followed directly after coffee. Ginny politely excused herself thereafter to go upstairs and shower.

Their conversation had been fruitful and enlightening, and Ginny was acutely aware that telling Malfoy her troubles had been as beneficial to her as his outburst the night before had been to him. She wondered at it, that with so huge a gap in their ages and the opposite stance they had taken on the war - she and Lucius Malfoy had somehow developed a grudging respect, and had now even helped each other…an utterly staggering thought.

She never would have imagined it in her wildest dreams; furthermore, that Lucius Malfoy could be sympathetic, that he had a heart and he felt pain like a regular human being.

She was still slightly mistrustful of him, however – she couldn't stop herself. She had the feeling that although truly turned away from his murderous past, some of what he said was still only so much "schmoozing" to pacify her, as it had been at dinner the night before.

Recalling Malfoy railing against Voldemort the half-blood that night, Ginny found herself wondering about his involvement with the Death Eaters. Voldemort must have been one charismatic guy before he was diminished when Harry was a baby, she mused. It seemed unlikely that Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Black, so prideful of their own unspotted bloodlines would have been willing to serve a half-blood unless he was _truly_ incredible. Of course, the fact that he was the heir of Salazar Slytherin may have helped a bit…but still, what was in it for Malfoy and the others? Were they as truly afraid of him as it was purported?

She remembered certain things Sirius had said about the old, pure-blooded families feeling it was their right to perform dark magic if they wished. Had that been Malfoy's reason for joining Voldemort's ranks? She had an image of him as a young man – looking like a slightly handsomer Draco - taking the Dark Mark, having been misled by the Dark Lord to believe their fight was to keep the old ways alive. Maybe that was so, maybe not, but it did seem rather logical, especially when it came to Snape, who had clearly left when he realized what evils he would be forced to involve himself in.

Ginny continued theorizing on this subject as she towel-dried her red hair, braided it into two pigtails and made a search of the bathroom for some cosmetics she could use. Like magic, they appeared in a drawer in the vanity. Ginny wondered if the bathroom had been charmed to provide whatever she needed – what a handy spell that would be, if she could learn it.

She looked into the mirror after she finished and approved of how she looked, obviously the makeup was of a better quality than what she used at home. Her only regret was that she had to wear the same lavender jumper, faded jeans, and old white trainers with the childish racing stripe down the side - which had so thrilled her when she purchased them at the age of fourteen – instead of wizard robes. Malfoy obviously preferred robes, as she had not yet seen him wear anything else, and always black.

But there was nothing to be done. She would join him for dinner in her muggle clothing again – Malfoy be damned if he had a problem with it! It was the fashion now to wear muggle clothes most of the time – and she'd noticed his robes weren't exactly as splendid as they'd once been. _Not like he really has anywhere to wear them, is it?_ She thought wryly.

Ginny wondered if her parents were going mad with worry over her disappearance. Ever since Harry left for America she had occasionally disappeared for a while without telling anyone where she was going, but she never stayed out all night long. She hoped they would chalk it up to a bout of sadness and figure she'd decided to crash at Hermione's – that would work as long as they didn't try to contact her there. She didn't look forward to explaining where she'd been when she got home.

…

Ginny and Mr. Malfoy were in the midst of a surprisingly enjoyable conversation over dinner, on the subject of the Dutch team that won the World Quidditch Cup that summer, when the ministry owl finally arrived.

Malfoy took the rolled parchment from the ebony owl's proffered foot and tore open the Ministry seal as Ginny looked on with curiosity.

"Permission granted," he sighed, "but it must be done within the hour." Removing his wand from a fold in his robes, Malfoy stood and focused his grey eyes on Ginny. "I'll have it ready in ten minutes, if you would like to retrieve any of the things you used during your stay here, Miss Weasley…I daresay I won't be needing them."

"That's very kind of you," said Ginny with a genuine smile. "I honestly wouldn't mind taking the nightgown I used with me…you really don't mind?" She watched him hesitantly, feeling slightly awkward accepting a gift from Malfoy on top of his hospitality.

"No, no, I don't mind at all," Malfoy assured her softly. "I highly doubt I myself will ever wear it." Despite the levity of the remark, Malfoy's manner had become suddenly cold. He strode purposefully from the room, leaving behind an offended Ginny. _Well,_ she thought to herself angrily_, it's not like I'm not glad to be away from him too, but at least he could be gracious about it._

She too rose from the table, and headed upstairs to her room. She neatly rolled the white satin nightgown, still feeling rather strange about taking it. But why shouldn't she? Malfoy was right. He wouldn't be wearing it.

Ginny stood in the center of the room, rolled nightgown in hand, and surveyed the room that had been hers for the past twenty-four hours for the last time.

Once again she marveled at the beauty of it, the rich, dark furnishings and beautiful white linens – it was the queenly bedroom she had always dreamed of as a child, living in her tiny cell at the Burrow. For a fleeting moment she wished she could stay there forever.

But no. She was going home to her parents, to her small, messy room and would forget about Malfoy, and his cold, palatial manor.

No, that wasn't true either.

She would never forget the time she spent here, nor would she forget Malfoy himself. She supposed if she ever ran into him at a party again, she would feel entirely different, perhaps she'd approach him politely and greet him – after all, he wasn't _so_ evil anymore, was he?

With that thought, Ginny headed downstairs. She wasn't entirely sure which room Malfoy had gone into after dinner, so she decided to go through the dining room to find him – in the dining room she met with Cappy who led her to the drawing room again.

Malfoy was seated in a chair with something small and gleaming in his lap. "It's ready," he said, holding up a small, ornamental vase.

Ginny approached his chair hesitantly. She wasn't sure how to properly thank him for his hospitality, nor was she particularly keen on experiencing the uncomfortable feeling a portkey produced again.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she began, hoping the proper words would come as she spoke, "I appreciate your kindness to me over the last twenty-four hours." She cleared her throat. "It was a pleasure to finally speak with you." She desperately hoped he wouldn't perceive that remark as too forward.

Malfoy nodded, but didn't meet her eyes. "It was my pleasure, Miss Weasley," he said softly. "I appreciated the company."

Ginny held out her hand for the portkey, but Malfoy continued to hold it in his lap. "Miss Weasley…" he said slowly, as her eyes flashed to his, "I wondered if you'd care to stay a bit longer?"

Ginny retracted her hand and grasped at the rolled up nightgown, wondering if she'd heard wrong.

"It has done me good to have someone to speak with today and yesterday," he admitted. "Why not stay? I daresay we could both use some companionship."

Ginny froze from the shock. He was mad, it was clear, absolutely mad – how in the name of Merlin could he think she would actually _stay_ with _him_? She opened her mouth to say so, but he interrupted her.

"What have you got to go back to, Miss Weasley?" he asked, not unkindly, though the words struck her to the quick.

"I do believe I could prove…beneficial…to you." He flashed a cold smile at her that showcased his canine teeth.

He was right. What _did_ she have to go back to? "Evil Malfoy" was not really so evil; he said himself she had helped him…was it possible…was it possible she could help him some more?

Oh, her parents would _hate_ it…

But they needn't know...

She really _didn't_ have anything to go back to…

A thousand thoughts burst through Ginny's brain at breakneck speed. A madness of sorts took hold of her: the heady realization that she was an adult, an independent witch, and this decision was entirely hers. No one could step in and say no. She held her own destiny in her trembling, undecided hands.

She had no job, she had no Harry, she had nothing; she was free to do what she liked. This thought, perhaps most of all, prompted an answer from Ginny.

_Sod them, sod all of them._

She turned to face the stately blond wizard, allowing her eyes to meet his, and muttered the one word that would change the course of her life.

"Alright."

Closing Author's Note: If I've done this well enough, then you will, my readers, be able to conceive of why Ginny would make the decision to stay. However, it occurs to me, and not the least because it's a question I would ask myself, that some of you are probably wondering why Malfoy would _want_ her to stay. Fear not: he has a good reason. But I'm not about to reveal it to you yet. ::evil grin::__


	6. Ginevra and Lucius

Disclaimer: Other people own Harry Potter, not me!

AuroraNoctifer: Thanks for the constructive criticism – it is definitely appreciated. Yes, Lucius seemed rather out of character in that move, didn't he…but just bear with me. ;-) I'm developing him slowly. Hopefully this chapter will clear all the concerns you had.

RosalindCarelli: Lovely name! I'm glad to hear you like my take on the G/L pairing. Yes, I will most assuredly read your story when I get the chance.

Anni That's exactly what I was going for! Thanks so much!

EmmyHart: _Perfectly written!_ Why thank you! I am so honored that you would say that…looking back on the last chapter I'm not entirely happy with it, so reading that made my day. I am in your debt!

RunespoorOracle: Yes, Lucius is a hard one to write, isn't he. You do so well you make it look easy. :-P Can't wait for the next chapter of Blanc et Noir – now go write! :-P

To all else who reviewed: Thank you so much! You keep me keen on continuing. All your comments are very much appreciated.

_Chapter six: Ginevra and Lucius_

Ginny regretted her decision to stay almost immediately.

A half hour after her intended leaving time, she sat with Malfoy in opposite chairs in the drawing room nursing a silence that could be cut with a knife. Ginny's mind raced as it had before, but the thoughts were now negative.

Stuck, alone with Malfoy in Malfoy Manor – why, she hardly knew him! Now she was _living_ with him. What a romantic notion it had seemed in that flashing instant, to dwell in such a grand place, to be waited on by house elves, and to be the companion of a distinguished wizard.

_Right_.

She cursed herself for her whimsy. Looking about again, she was stricken with the coldness of the room, and even more so, the cold, impenetrable face of Malfoy himself, who did not appear nearly as interested in talking with her as he had before she agreed to stay.

She was stuck. For a moment she considered changing her mind and asking him to recreate the portkey, but some deep sense of pride halted her. She wouldn't back down now, she couldn't. And it was too late, anyway – they'd have to go through all the trouble of getting permission again.

She'd have to stay, at least for a little while. She hoped her adaptive spirit would take over and she'd find some enjoyment in living there, but she couldn't help wondering in that moment if Malfoy was panicking as much as she was. After all, it was _his_ home, and she would intrude upon his established routine.

Steadying her voice and her mood, Ginny broke the silence. "I'll need to owl my parents and tell them I won't be home, Mr. Malfoy," she said politely, "may I use your owl?"

Malfoy nodded his assent and summoned Cappy to fetch his owl, Julius. Ginny set about composing a note to her parents that would neither alarm them nor alert them as to whose company she was now enjoying – they would most likely panic and think he was holding her hostage or something else equally ridiculous. _But then_, Ginny noted, _I might have thought the same thing three days ago_.

In the end, she decided to write:

_Hey mum and dad,_

_Sorry was gone last night – should have owled. Needed to get out._

_I got a job as a housekeeper for a large estate today, will contact later._

_Say hi to Bill and Fleur. _

Ginny 

She hoped that wouldn't alarm them any more than a more detailed description of her whereabouts.

Malfoy also had Ginny make up a list of the things she would need and dispatched Cappy to pick them up from the Burrow. The small elf would apparate into Ginny's room, fetch her things, and apparate back to Malfoy Manor. Ginny was immensely grateful for the house elf ability to apparate and disapparate from buildings with anti-apparation spells. Her parents would never even know he'd been there.

The next few days at Malfoy Manor were mostly quiet. Ginny felt uncharacteristically meek in the almost constant presence of Malfoy, who was surprisingly subdued and pensive. She tried to settle in without disturbing him very much, but it seemed that he desired a breakup of his routine, as he always invited her to sit with him even at times when he didn't feel like speaking.

She was adjusting to him slowly, though her concept of him changed daily - Ginny wondered how many sides one person could have. Sometimes he was cold, waspish and rude, at other times he was soft spoken and thoughtful. There was an underlying vulnerability in him that surfaced at times and seemed to alarm him, for then he would swing in completely the opposite direction and become nearly unbearably foreboding.

Ginny's trepidation began to die as she became more and more fascinated with the constantly changing character of Lucius Malfoy. She yearned to find him somewhere under his many masks, to know the real him.

She had more than enough time to observe and hypothesize on the subject in the often creeping silence.

Malfoy, for his own part, was glad of the company though he wasn't always certain what to say to her. And she _was_ very attractive, he mused. He hoped he could keep his hands off her – it wouldn't do to frighten her away early on with too much rapacious attention.

A few rather lively and drawn out conversations punctuated the quiet that permeated Ginny's first few days at Malfoy Manor. When Malfoy desired to talk, they talked -unknowingly Ginny had already begun to follow his whims. They rarely agreed on matters of importance, but Ginny found his viewpoints intriguing, and was flattered that he listened to what she had to say intently, as if it were truly important.

When they hit upon the subject of pure wizard blood versus muggle-born wizard blood, Ginny felt entirely in her element, as she'd pondered the subject on her own enough to form a logical opinion.

"Miss Weasley," drawled Malfoy, "I don't see how you can overlook the strength of pure blood as a pureblood yourself. Surely you see the advantages of a wizarding line in your own magical abilities?"

"That isn't the point, Mr. Malfoy!" Ginny exclaimed. "How can we all continue on without a bit of new blood on occasion?"

"In much the same way as we have for centuries!" Malfoy shot back, his brows creasing into a scowl.

Ginny blinked irritably. "But we're all inbred. Eventually lines die out, and there aren't enough heirs to continue, er…mating…in order to keep the families all pure. Eventually someone has to marry a muggle-born, or a second-generation muggle-born in order to expand the line enough to keep it going."

Malfoy sneered. "Not all lines die out."

"Yours has."

Malfoy regarded her coolly, as Ginny mentally kicked herself for the low blow.

"That is a different case," he said icily, turning to stare out the large, French–paned window into a withered garden, made all the more dreary by the overcast autumn weather.

Ginny lowered her eyes with a sigh. "I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy. I got carried away."

Malfoy was cool and collected when he answered, but she observed that broken, despairing look in his eyes as he continued to gaze out the window. "It's quite all right."

After five days Malfoy finally realized how extremely bored Ginny was, doing nothing but dining and talking with him a few times a day. She was used to the hustle and bustle of a busy magical household, with people in and out all the time, and the silence and restlessness of Malfoy Manor was beginning to wear on her.

In a gesture of good will, he gave her access to the large library on the central floor. Ginny was taken aback by the size of it, she'd never seen a private library so large and with so many volumes.

A great many of the books therein were devoted to the dark arts, but there were other subjects there as well. Ginny was suddenly very glad that she'd developed an interest in recreational reading in her post-Hogwarts days. She began to habitually take a book with her when she retired to her room or sat with Malfoy in one of their long, gloomy silences. Malfoy began to read also, as if he had suddenly remembered he had the library when he showed it to her.

Within those days Ginny also made herself acquainted with the other attending house elf at the manor. His name was Richter, and he reminded her rather more of Kreacher than of Dobby or Cappy- he was most unpleasant, and she usually elected to have Cappy help her if she needed anything, if at all possible.

With a world of knowledge at her fingertips and intriguing conversations with Malfoy around every corner, Ginny began to feel comfortable with her residence at Malfoy Manor. She had long ago given up on her silly notion of being there to help Malfoy, but at least, she thought, she could ease his loneliness somewhat and her own as well. It was a strange friendship, certainly, but a surprisingly stimulating one nonetheless.

Occasionally when they sat together she peered at him over her book, as he sat reading his own – for Malfoy was always refreshing himself on aspects of magic he had lost during his imprisonment in Azkaban – and wondered exactly why he had asked her to stay, besides loneliness, and if it meant he expected her to sleep with him at some point or another. He hadn't made any overtures as of then, but she braced herself for what she saw as an inevitable occurrence - the mere situation implied it, in her mind.

What she was to Malfoy, she couldn't say. For once in her life, lacking a term for her current situation seemed to be all right.

Ginny awoke to sunshine and the first clear day since she'd been at the manor, on a Thursday almost two weeks after her arrival. She smiled as she opened her window to the cold morning breeze, glorying in smell of the decaying leaves and the sight of the dew that sparkled like diamonds on the October flowers. The grounds looked very appealing in the dawn light.

Malfoy was in a particularly good mood that morning – Ginny suspected it was a result of the sunshine, as Malfoy Manor looked less dreary than usual – and obligingly offered to accompany her when she voiced her decision to go for a walk.

They first visited the garden, which had sadly fallen prey to weeds and lichen, but there was enough of its former beauty apparent for Ginny to imagine what it must have looked like when it was well kept. Cabbage roses charmed to bloom all year long crawled like ivy over the low wall, their tiny, perfumed faces turned up toward the sun. Here and there a few autumn bulbs still bloomed, contrasting their gentle beauty with the starkness of the desolate, briar filled garden.

Next Malfoy directed their steps to the stables, which had long been devoid of horses. Ginny smiled inwardly as she looked around…Malfoy was still a snob at heart, to take such pride in showing her all the luxuries of his former life. He seemed to enjoy recalling his affluence, but Ginny felt it was all rather sad.

"We had quite a lot of horses at one time." he drawled, "Even a pair of thestrals at one point."

"Gotten illegally, I would presume," observed Ginny.

Malfoy smirked. "That's correct," he admitted. "They were beautiful creatures. We sometimes used them to pull a carriage. They made an excellent conversation piece at parties."

They turned towards the house.

"I hope someday you'll restore the grounds, Mr. Malfoy. This is too beautiful a place to let it go to waste," said Ginny reflectively, training her eyes on a large oak tree with tangles of newly bloomed holly hanging from its branches.

"Someday," Malfoy agreed. "Perhaps I shall ask Cappy to work on the garden for your pleasure, Miss Weasley." Ginny marveled at his sudden good will.

After allowing a silence for a moment, and then clearing his throat, Malfoy spoke again. "Miss Weasley, I've been meaning to ask you to call me Lucius. We are in too close circumstances for such formalities as we have been observing. I may call you Virginia, I presume?" It wasn't really a request.

"I'd allow you to call me that," laughed Ginny, "but my name is actually Ginevra."

"My apologies," said Lucius, his eyebrows upraised.

"Yes, that would be fine, Mr. Mal…Lucius," Ginny corrected herself, feeling odd both to call him Lucius, and also to be called Ginevra, as no one called her that but her mum, and only when she was very angry.

"Excellent." Lucius smiled as they strode together back to the manor.

Author's note: Erm…I haven't got anything to say this time. I wonder if I can work in a pitch for Peter Pan into my author's notes? Probably not….go see it anyway, people!


	7. Lost in the Shadows

Thank you everyone for the lovely reviews on the last chapter (And every chapter, for that matter.)! 

Rosalind – soon, I have something very specific in mind. ;-) Rune, ah, I lurf it when you say my writing's getting better! Yours is too you know. (So you've been taking the writing enhancement potion also, eh? ;-) FallenAngel, yep, it was about time for that, wasn't it - as much as I like the Edwardian feeling of the formalities. ;-) Emmy, _shirtless_….oh Merlin…._I know_…I almost didn't live through it. Pimp stick, that's definitely an interesting theory you have there – very Freudian. Yep, Jason is terrific. There aren't words to describe. Copperstring, here's your update! J

Disclaimer: I don't own Ginny, and I don't own Lucius, nor do I own the wizarding world, or Malfoy Manor (don't I wish I did!). I don't really even own the general idea for the plot, as it's been done before, and better. I'm compelled to continue work on it, however, as my beloved Muse, Lucius Malfoy himself, keeps smacking me with his cane every time I neglect to work on it. Notice the cane is delightfully absent from this story. Opening A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this one up, but obviously it's a bit longer than some of the others. This chapter is best read while accompanied by the adagio from Beethoven's Empire concerto, as that's what I was listening to when I wrote the bulk of it. Also, anyone who can name the film featuring the song the chapter title is taken from wins my undying love and devotion (I adore eighties music – almost as much as I enjoy challenging my readers, waha). This chapter is dedicated to my darling sister, Lisa, who is a terribly phenomenal writer herself, and helped bring out my descriptiveness in this chapter with her own superior descriptions in her fanfics. Also, she'll know where I got the title. Chapter seven: Lost in the Shadows 

Ginny sat in a comfortable chair by the drawing room fire, her eyes trained on a page of the book about ancient Roman wizardy in her hand, but her mind drifting. Across from her in his favourite armchair sat Lucius, his light brows furrowed in thought, as he intently read an article in the Daily Prophet.

Ginny glanced up at him lazily then turned her gaze to the fire glowing in the hearth. She was feeling ponderous on that particular afternoon, and rather hopeful for one of her engrossing and lively discussions with the blond wizard across from her, but it seemed that he was in a tranquil mood and preferred to read.

Having dispensed with the formalities the week before, she felt more comfortable with him than ever. Being called Ginevra had taken some getting used to, however she had come to rather like it, as it was more in tune with her surroundings than 'Ginny.'

She wondered how Harry would feel if he knew where she was and moreover, who she was with. He wouldn't understand, of that much she was certain. She hardly understood herself. She felt less angry towards him than she had before, and she wondered curiously how he was faring in the American wizarding world, and if his and Ron's jobs were quite what they had expected.

Lucius folded up the paper and laid it on the table beside his chair with a soft flop. Rising, he strode purposefully from the room with no word as to his destination, but Ginny was so lost in her thoughts she barely took notice.

Her mind had wondered to what her parents were doing, whether they missed her or not, and Hermione's new job at the ministry, working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures – Hermione was hoping to work herself into a position to lobby for house elf rights, her pet cause. She missed her mum and dad, and she missed Hermione, but curiously she felt no desire to leave the manor to see them.

"Can Cappy get Miss Weasley anything?" Squeaked a voice behind her chair, bringing Ginny back to reality. She thought for a moment then asked for a cup of tea. She did so hate to disappoint Cappy when he wished to be helpful; the elf had grown terribly fond of her. He disappeared and returned only a minute later with some tea that Ginny suspected he had already brewed in anticipation of her request.

"Thank you Cappy," she said with a smile. Cappy grinned back at her, lingering for a moment. "Would Miss Weasley like anything else?" He asked tentatively.

Ginny couldn't think of anything. "No, I think that'll be all for now, Cappy, unless you can tell me what we're having for dinner."

Cappy seemed delighted to do so. "Tonight, Miss Weasley and Master Malfoy will have roast beef, Miss Weasley's favourite!" He beamed up at her. Ginny wondered how he knew it was her favourite dish.

"Cappy always knows," the elf said softly as if in answer to her thought. He timidly laid his small hand on hers. "Cappy is so glad to have a pretty lady around again," he said, looking up at her with bright eyes.

"And I'm glad to know you, Cappy," said Ginny sincerely. The elf had been extremely gracious and kind to her during her stay at the manor. She highly doubted that she would have settled in so much without him.

Cappy slid his other hand under hers, his toothsome smile as bright as the full moon and his shyness dissipating.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" hissed Lucius' unmistakable voice from the doorway.

Startled, Ginny turned to see that the tall wizard was glaring at Cappy, not herself. The trembling house elf cowered and stared up at him, his violet eyes the size of tennis balls.

To Ginny's horror, he advanced on the elf and grabbed him menacingly by the collar of his pillowcase. "Lucius! What are you doing?" She shrieked. He paid her no heed. "That was inappropriate," he hissed through bared teeth. "How dare you take such liberties!" He flung Cappy painfully to the floor.

Frantically Ginny jumped out of her chair. "He didn't do anything!" she exclaimed, flushing with anger. "Don't hurt him, he hasn't done anything wrong!" She tugged on his arm, which was raised to strike.

Lucius turned to her with a scowl. "Ginevra," he said coolly, "you live here now, but I am still master of this house. You will _not_ tell me what to do with my own things."

Ginny stood her ground. "He's not a thing, he's a living being! He didn't do anything wrong, Lucius…it was nothing more than the whim of a lonely elf. You can't honestly mean to punish him for it!"

"You have no say in this matter. You do _not_ understand servants, Ginevra," he stated condescendingly. His dangerously narrowed eyes dared her to challenge him further, but his tone was final.

"Fine!" shouted Ginny angrily. She knew she had lost, which humiliated her, but more than that she was terrified for Cappy. She could think of no more to say, however, so grabbing her book, she flew from the room without once glancing at Lucius.

_Changed indeed._

Ginny was too furious to read for some time after the scene in the drawing room. She was appalled at her host's behavior toward a loyal servant, as well as his illusion to her parents' lack of wealth. _"You do not understand servants, Ginevra." _Damned is she didn't! Ginny had been waited on by house elves all her seven years at Hogwarts! She'd journeyed to the kitchens with Hermione to visit Winky, the disgraced elf formerly in the employ of a deceased Ministry of Magic official, on several occasions. She _knew_ house elves, and she knew they didn't have to be treated like _that_.

Her fury was such that she would have left immediately if she had been able to do so without Lucius' aid and consent.

As it was, she elected to stay in her room for the rest of the evening and deprive him of her company at dinner. She didn't know if she could manage civility anyway.

Some hour or more after the set supper hour, Richter brought Ginny a plate of food on a tray. Feeling quite hungry by then, Ginny was grateful for it, but she considered declining to eat to spite her host. After a moment's debate she decided that would be too good an illustration of the ancient "cutting off one's nose to spite his face" adage, and quickly set into her solitary dinner.

By nature Richter was a rather quiet and morose elf, quite unlike the pleasant and sometimes talkative Cappy, but after some persuasion he reluctantly informed Ginny that Malfoy had taken his own supper in the drawing room, much to her satisfaction.

…

Ginny awoke to another bitter cold, grey November day the following morning and waged a private debate as to whether she should go down to breakfast or continue to ignore Lucius.

Before she had made up her mind she was interrupted by the popping sound of Cappy apparating into her room with a mug of coffee and two pieces of toast drenched in butter and topped off with a solitary fried egg, her preferred breakfast.

"Good morning, Miss Weasley!" Cappy greeted in a cheerful tone, though Ginny's attention was instantly drawn to the bandages around his long, slender fingers.

"Cappy, are you okay?" she inquired, feeling terribly guilty to have been a party to the elf's mistreatment.

"Cappy has never been better!" he exclaimed, beaming up at her. Ginny couldn't quite understand his reasoning, but felt better to see that he was cheerful, and nothing was broken.

"Mr. Malfoy has instructed Cappy to inform Miss Weasley that he will be away today on business. Master said Miss Weasley may do anything she likes to keep herself entertained, and also Master said Miss Weasley must choose a dinner for Cappy and Richter to cook."

Cappy opened the palm of his hand, revealing a small cylindrical device of dull silver, which rotated seemingly of its own volition. Instantly the voice of Lucius Malfoy flooded the room.

"_Ginevra_," it said, "_I must spend the day on business in Diagon Alley, I trust you will find ways to keep yourself occupied in my absence. It will be your duty to inform the house elves what they shall serve at dinner. I will be back in time to dine with you._" Ginny noted that his voice was none too warm, and she winced as she imagined the imperious scowl that must have been pasted on his face as he spoke.

With Lucius gone, she decided to take her breakfast downstairs in the drawing room in her favourite chair by the fire.

Over the course of the morning Ginny began to marvel at how bored she was without the former Death Eater's presence in the room with her. It wasn't as if they talked all the time, she thought, so why did it feel peculiar and rather empty to sit and read without him?

She tried to immerse herself in _The Song of the Geisha: An Art Witch's Tale, _which had fascinated her when she first picked it up, but she felt too antsy to read for more than a few minutes at a time and kept losing her place – she had gotten all the way to the author's introduction as a geiko before she realized she had absolutely no clue what that was.

Abandoning the book, she considered taking a walk, but realized upon glancing out the window that it was raining again. It was too much bother with rain repelling spells and whatnot, so that was out. She eventually settled on a self-guided tour of the manor. There were parts of the large Malfoy home that she had not yet seen, and she highly doubted Lucius would ever think to show her, or indeed even _want_ to show her. He mostly kept to the drawing room, his private study, and the small dining room to the left of the large formal dining hall, which was too big for just the two of them.

Ginny stepped into the hallway outside the drawing room and paused to observe where it led. She'd seen a few of the rooms beyond the one she and Malfoy so frequently occupied, but she had never been invited to follow the hallway to its end. _Why not,_ she thought, deciding to explore it then.

She noted as she walked slowly down it, her eyes observing every detail, that the hallway was somewhat bare. Every now and then she passed a portrait of snoozing Malfoy ancestors or an open door, which led to a dark, barren room with sheets covering scattered pieces of furniture - nothing particularly interesting to see. Nonetheless, she felt compelled to continue.

At the end of the hallway Ginny came to a long, dark, twisted stair, leading to somewhere she couldn't see for the gloomy darkness. She stared up it apprehensively for a moment, then pulled out her wand and began to ascend.

She was startled slightly on several occasions as she climbed when she hit a creaky stair, and once rather badly when she awoke an angry portrait of a dark eyed Victorian witch, in an elaborate but ill-fitting pink satin gown. The painting shouted at her indignantly long after she was out of sight of it, but it was speaking Slavic and Ginny had no idea what it was saying.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally came to a landing. She was surrounded by inky darkness on all sides, but she felt through her shoes that the floor beneath her was marble, and heard her cautious steps echoing in the gloom. "Lumos," she muttered, illuminating the surrounding area.

She seemed to be standing in another hallway, but by the look of it no one had been there for years. The rich wooden furniture that punctuated the bare walls was all covered in a thick layer of dust, and the gilded mirror that hung a few feet away from her was cracked and dirty. There were several doors on each side of the rectangular hall, which ended in another door about twelve meters in front of her.

Curiously, Ginny opened the first door she came to on her left, and poking her head and the lit tip of her wand in, she looked about. The walls were covered in bookcases and wood paneling, and in the center of the room was a grand mahogany writing desk, empty of all of the knick-knacks and papers that usually adorn desks in use. In the corner of the room under a tall, freestanding lamp with a burgundy and gold shade was a giant world globe in a wooden frame, which instantly captured Ginny's attention. She had always wanted one for the Weasley home.

After giving the globe a last, longing look, Ginny closed the door before the urge to enter the room and disturb the contents became any more severe.

The room next to the first seemed to be some sort of guest room, for there was a bed and some other matching furnishings within. It was similar to Ginny's room, in color and layout, and didn't interest her as much as the room with the globe.

The next door she tried was locked, but the one after that opened to a large room lined with windows, and bearing a king sized bed with emerald hangings, sitting on a furry rug in the center of the marble floor. Ginny was too overcome with curiosity not to enter the room and open the shades this time. There was something distinctively different about the feeling that pervaded the dark interior.

After the darkness of the hall, the grey winter light that streamed in from the windows seemed bright and illuminating. Ginny stood at the foot of the four-poster bed and surveyed the area around her. A black trunk of what appeared to be dragonhide graced a space on the floor to the left of the bed; a bookshelf with various books about Quidditch and spellwork stood only a meter or two from the trunk. Directly in front of her was a large poster for the Leicester Lords Quidditch team, all in the team colors of royal blue and brilliant purple.

Ginny had no doubt as to who had occupied this bedroom. _Draco_.

She felt a deep sadness fall upon her as she continued her survey of the dead Malfoy heir's quarters. In life she had hated him for his rotten attitude and his constant ragging on her family's inferior social position, directed especially at Ginny's older brothers, former Head Boy Ron, and the twins, Fred and George. But being in his room after his death brought a seeping pity into her heart. Looking at his possessions all there as if he could still come back to them gave her a sense of what he might have been like at home – not so very different from Ron, really. W_hat a waste_, she thought as she looked back upon his short life span. _No one so young deserves to die, even someone as rude as he was. He should've had a chance to live and find a way to redeem himself. _No wonder Lucius was so bitter and sometimes lost in his despair. Ginny completely forgot her anger and was washed in a wave of grief for her companion.

The longer she lingered in Draco's room, the more Ginny felt she would have been happy to stay there herself. With a shudder she left it undisturbed save for the open shades, closing the door tightly.

The next door she came to was the one at the end of the hall. It was unlocked, and emboldened by her experience in the last room, Ginny walked right in.

She was stricken with the size of it, which she got a sense of even before she opened the thick, dark curtains over the only window looking out over the pasture that ran parallel to the west side of the manor. Standing by the window, Ginny looked over the room and decided it had to have been the master bedroom at one time. The golden-framed bed was huge, almost beyond king size, and covered with a strangely iridescent royal blue coverlet and matching canopy.

Blinking in the light, Ginny looked around the room quickly. Lucius had slept there once, and that thought alone made it almost too personal for her comfort, even though she suspected he hadn't been in there since his return from Azkaban. She decided to look into the other rooms, and only go back to that one if she had extra time.

Back in the hallway, Ginny faced the remaining wall, which held only two doors. She found nothing but an empty room with a sheet over a single piece of furniture behind the first one, and moved directly to the second door, which was unlocked and yielded squeakily to her prizing entrance.

As soon as she had thrown open the shade, the red haired girl was stricken with the difference in colour and feeling in this room as compared to the others. The furnishings were of a light coloured wood, and the upholstery on the small settee and matching chair in front of the picture window was a powdery lavender colour. Over a lavender-skirted dressing table on one side of the room was a large guilt-framed mirror. Bottles of various perfumes, cosmetics and potions were scattered over the top of the table.

Ginny stared at it for a moment, registering in her mind that she had obviously stumbled upon the deceased Narcissa's private dressing room, when something on the other side of the room caught her eye.

Three wardrobes, as big as pantries, stood against the opposite wall. The door of the first one was open, revealing a row of dusty but nonetheless elegant and elaborate robes, in various pastel shades. Ginny's breath was taken away as she looked at them and slowly stepped over to the open wardrobe, her hand out to touch the fine fabrics. She'd only _dreamed _of owning clothes like these.

She pulled a gold, slim-fitting robe out of the wardrobe and stared at it, her eyes taking in the smooth satin and elegant trimming. She wanted to try it on more than anything in the world, but something stopped her. She looked around the room, from the dressing table to the settee, to the window, and back to the wardrobe. She was alone all right, but it didn't feel like it somehow. The aura of Narcissa Malfoy filled the room like an expensive perfume. Every piece of furniture and every rich robe softly whispered to Ginny, _'I'm not yours'._

Slowly she placed the gold garment back in the wardrobe and closed the door. She felt keenly melancholy, and a curious icy feeling was spreading over the back of her neck. She thought she caught something move out of the corner of her eye and turned on her heel with her wand at the ready, but she saw only the gentle flutter of a curtain in a draft. Still, something deep inside her seemed to be telling her she wasn't alone.

The icy feeling grew, spreading down her spine and tingling in her fingers. Panic welled up from deep inside her chest, overwhelming her logic, but another force rooted her to the spot. She was paralyzed, the two emotions battling for supremacy within her. She didn't want to leave the room, but soon her terror would overcome her.

Taking a deep breath, she brushed a strand of red hair off her sweating forehead. _It's_ _all in your mind,_ she told herself, but she finally gave over to the fear and left the lavender room, closing the door with a loud creak and quickly crossing the marble floor…almost running down the stairs, all the while assuring herself it was only her silly whimsy, but feeling as if she were being pursued.

Back in the drawing room, Ginny forced herself to become engrossed in the book about Japanese geisha witches, but she never entirely shook the icy cold on the back of her neck.

Lucius sought Ginny out the moment he arrived home, and found her sitting in her usual spot by the fireplace in the drawing room, a book in hand. "Salmon," she told him by way of greeting, without looking up.

Lucius smirked. "I see you got my message, Ginevra. I'm pleased to hear Cappy is good for something." Ginny cleared her face of her resulting scowl before she turned to look at him. His smirk had changed to a surprisingly pleasant smile.

"Ginevra, I don't believe we'll ever agree on the subject of house elves," he told her dryly, "but I offer you a flag of truce." He held out a package, of white paper with a little twine wrapped around the middle. It looked squishy, like a cloth something was within.

Ginny took it with a raised eyebrow. "For me?" she asked. "Open it," said Lucius with a sly smile.

As Ginny removed the wrapping her fingers brushed something soft, and pulling off the remainder of the white paper, she gasped to see a very expensive-looking forest green velvet witch's robe in her size. "Lucius, really…"

"Yes, really."

So he thought he could win her over again by buying her expensive gifts? Ginny marveled at how manipulative the smiling blonde wizard could be, even so far this side of his Death Eater days. In a flash of insight she realized that was how he'd kept his wife and son's support and admiration through the years, by pacifying them with gifts - and now he was employing the same tactics on her. Well, two could play at that game. After all, she thought wryly, he _owed_ her for putting up with his moods.

She gave him a dignified smile. "It's lovely. I'll wear it tomorrow, if you like." Cocking an eyebrow she added, "last night is forgotten."

Lucius smiled brilliantly, showing off a row of perfect white teeth, bared in a catlike grin. "Excellent. Shall we go to dinner then?" he asked, offering her his arm.

Ginny took it with a smile of her own, acting the part of the conceding woman. _But really I've won,_ she thought to herself. _I've obviously made him care what I think, and that's an advantage he doesn't suspect he's given me_.

Closing A/N: I'm surprisingly happy with this chapter, considering I usually put them up feeling only marginally satisfied with my writing. This'll probably end up being my favourite chapter, if only for all the references to movies and books I love. I had to have the obligatory heroine-wanders-around-large-gloomy-manor/castle/estate scene, which is in homage to all my favourite Gothic romantic fiction, Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, The Turn of the Screw, and Rebecca.

For any of you who wonder why Cappy would be so cheerful after being punished, here's the explanation (which I couldn't work into the fic): Cappy's a bit of a romantic, and though he isn't able to go against a direct order from Lucius, he feels that being punished for his "love" for Ginny is a worthy cause and therefore validates his unrequited feelings somehow. In short, it makes him feel important, and though he won't attempt any more affection, the _flame still burns bright_. ;-) Ah, I love house elves.


	8. Company

Disclaimer: Me no own! Thanks to all you lovely reviewers! I'm so overwhelmed by your response to my little fic. I love your comments. 

FallenAngel, thank you, that's what I was going for! Rosalind, thanks for a sweet review once again. The best way to become a good writer is to keep writing, as Rune reminds me in her comments. And don't let anyone tell you your writing isn't good enough…you can do anything you want to. Rune…no, the Professor and I came to…ah…a deal of sorts. ;-) Copperstring, I've been wicked taking so long getting this next chapter up! I'm sorry! I'm doing my best though! I know exactly what you mean, Emmy. :-P Lainniss…why thanks sweetie. We need more of your fic now. Soon on that, Raclswt. ;-) Sis! Thanks for reading and reviewing – I'm honored! SlytherinDragoon, nice name, lol. Thank _you_ Who Cares. ;-) Widow,DarkBella…thanks a bunch! Here's an update for you. Steph, thanks a million for your kind review. I will get around to cleaning up the mistakes in this fic sometime, lol. Also, go you for knowing where the song came from! It's a good song, isn't it? Thanks D.Domin! Anni, richter means judge in German. I wanted a harsher sounding name for him like Kreacher, and I thought of that word…personally, I think it fits well.

Opening Author's note: This chapter marks the beginning of the end of the status quo. Have fun trying to figure out what that means. ;-) Chapter Eight: Company 

The winter holidays were rapidly approaching. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley contacted Ginny via owl and begged her to "_take time off her job_" to spend Christmas at the Weasley home, enticing her with the news that Hermione would be spending the holiday with them as the date of Ron's return to England had been pushed to February.

Ginny loved the idea of observing the holidays with her parents, the twins, and Hermione, but she couldn't bear to leave Lucius alone for Christmas. She suspected he would have a hard enough time getting through it with her there, let alone by himself in the great empty manor with rememberances of his wife and son everywhere around him – his first Christmas at home without them.

By return owl she informed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that she absolutely couldn't leave, twisting the truth to make it sound as if she'd have entirely too much work to do. She really hated to lie to them like that, but she could see no way around it ("How Gryffindor of you," sneered Lucius when she told him how she felt).

If a part of her hoped Lucius would excuse her of his own volition, it was sorely disappointed. He rather wished he could hibernate through Christmas and New Years and awake in the early spring, but as that was impossible, he was clinging to the notion that at least he'd have Ginny to keep him occupied. He secretly delighted in his plan to shower her with lavish gifts merely to observe her reaction, knowing full well how little she must have received in the past from her own family. If he happened to make her feel uncomfortable by doing so, even better – Lucius found Ginny's reactions to his whims highly entertaining.

For her own part of the celebrations, Ginny had thoroughly scanned her host's library until she found that he lacked a certain book about the history of Gringotts bank and ordered it from an advertisement in the Daily Prophet. He loved histories and he loved money, so where could she go wrong?

Ginny awoke one morning to find that Cappy and Richter had put up a Christmas tree in the drawing room overnight. It was quite large, an evergreen, charmed to remain alive without shedding needles. The elves had decorated it in red and silver, with bulbs, tinsel, and a few fairies that chirruped noisily when approached. The redhead was very impressed with it.

The days passed in sluggish repetition of the routine the pair had observed for so long: reading, dining, enjoying the occasional conversation, and weather permitting (which wasn't often), taking a stroll in the garden. Ginny found herself thinking on the morning of Christmas Eve that she wanted the holiday to come as quickly as possible not because she was excited about it, as she had been when she was a child, but merely to get it over with.

She put down her novel and looked at the wizard in his chair across from hers. Lucius seemed to have dozed off, his book still in hand, but his slow breathing coming in the telltale rhythm of one asleep. She smiled to herself as she watched him, deciding to allow him his sleep until supper.

Lost in her thoughts, a soporific haze of visions from the volume in her hand, Ginny was startled to the point of letting out a small yelp when she heard a loud chiming noise reverberate through the room.

Lucius started right out of his sleep and met her wide brown eyes with his own sleepy grey.

The doorbell.

Ginny was about to ask the blond wizard if he was expecting company when she caught Cappy's voice moving into ear shot, saying, "…in the drawing room, Master and Mistress aren't expecting visitors, let Cappy go in first…" and a soft, silky growl in reply that she instantly recognized. "Mistress?" asked the voice quizzically.

The door opened to reveal Cappy, flanked by none other than Professor Severus Snape, Ginny's former potions professor, and Lucius' sole friend in his current exiled status. The raven-haired professor gave a customary short bow to Lucius, who seemed to have recovered quickly from his surprise. He smiled widely.

"Ahh, Severus! How good of you to join us!" He rose and offered his hand to Snape, who seemed to have reacted to the very "us" in his host's greeting and was looking about for the other party. Ginny felt herself blush hotly when his black eyes fell on her face. She imagined she could safely assume she was the _last_ person Snape would expect to see in the company of Lucius Malfoy.

"Miss Weasley," he greeting with an upraised eyebrow, his surprise apparent in his sallow features, "to what do we owe this pleasure?"

"A few, ah, rather remarkable circumstances," Lucius answered delicately, smiling slyly at Ginny.

"Good afternoon Professor Snape," she said politely. "Do sit down and make yourself comfortable." She indicated the seat next to Lucius. It felt so natural to be playing hostess.

Snape sat immediately, though he seemed somewhat taken aback at her invitation. Ginny felt terribly awkward in his presence, and always had, but having Lucius nearby seemed to make it all the worse. She knew Snape was wondering what her relationship with the blond man was, and she imagined he was drawing all sorts of wrong and possibly perverse conclusions.

"To what do we owe your visit, Severus?" asked Lucius, surprising Ginny by using the professor's first name.

"Company," Snape replied, never one to mince words. "I imagined you would spend Christmas alone, Malfoy, and I thought I would drop in. Obviously I am not the first." His eyes moved disapprovingly over Ginny. She wondered what he was thinking behind those impenetrable dark spheres.

Lucius chuckled appreciatively, ignoring Snape's remark about Ginny's presence. "That's very good of you, Severus. How are things at the school?"

Snape sneered. "No different than usual. It seems the students become more dim-witted with every passing year." Though he spoke conversationally – conversationally for Snape - his eyes remained on Ginny, his brows knitted in a scowl.

Her discomfort was growing by the second. Mastering herself, she stood and looked down at the two men seated before her. "Tea?" she asked.

"Yes, Ginevra," Lucius responded with a wave of his hand, "go and tell Cappy to make some tea."

Ginny hurried from the room, hoping against all hope that Snape hadn't noticed the blush creeping over her lightly freckled face.

Leaning against the other side of the closed drawing room door, Ginny caught her breath. "Cappy!" she called softly. True to form, the house elf was just around the corner.

"Yes mistress?" he responded, presenting himself. The redhead was still slightly uncomfortable with being referred to as "mistress," though she allowed the title without complaint, as Cappy always spoke it with such pleasure, and Lucius had not dictated otherwise.

"Mr. Malfoy wants some tea, Cappy. And whatever else you can serve our guest." Cappy bowed low and hurried off.

Ginny hesitated as she turned back to the door. She lingered against the doorframe, stealing herself to re-enter the room, but feeling the utmost trepidation. "_Merlin_," she breathed. From inside she heard Snape's voice hissing something at her companion.

"What have you done to her to make her stay, Malfoy?"

"Nothing, Severus. She stays of her own volition," Lucius answered airily, not bothering to drop his vocal volume.

Ginny pressed her ear against the door and quieted her breathing. What were they saying about her?

"What have you done? Are you bribing her?" Snape demanded, his own voice rising slightly.

Lucius was calm when he replied, but Ginny detected a hint of anger in his voice. "I told you she stays of her own volition, Severus. Do you honestly believe after all I have been through I would risk being," he exhaled sharply, "Sent back?"

There was a pause in the conversation, as if Snape was considering what the platinum-haired wizard had just said.

"But why would she stay with _you_?" he asked in a sneering tone. Lucius sighed.

"I can't tell you why she stays. It was entirely by accident that she arrived in the first place - but I've found her company has done me well," he admitted. "I'm loath for her to leave, at present. You mustn't disturb us, Severus." Ginny smiled at the condescending tone in the blond wizard's voice - no one at Hogwarts spoke to Snape in that manner. She had a sudden mental image of the two men in their school days, Lucius using Snape as his lackey and bossing him around like Draco did his cronies Crabbe and Goyle at one time.

"Yes, but a _Weasley_, Malfoy?" asked Snape with distaste.

"Yes, Severus, a Weasley," said Lucius in a bored tone. Obviously he had pondered that fact on his own, and didn't need the potions master to remind him. Ginny had never quite understood why some spoke her family name with such contempt. The Weasleys were as pure-blooded as anyone else. Did wealth really make such a difference?

After a pause, Snape spoke again. "Her parents will miss her," he proclaimed thoughtfully. "They will not be pleased when they find she has been with you. No doubt they will jump to somewhat _unbecoming_ conclusions."

"She has already taken care of that," Lucius replied dismissively, adding as an afterthought, "she's a clever girl."

Feeling justifiably flattered, Ginny decided to make her reappearance, but not before Snape had gotten in the last word.

"Really? Well you wouldn't have known it by the marks she got in my class."

"Cappy's making tea," she told the two men, ignoring Snape's rude remark as she settled back into her favourite chair. With difficulty she paid no heed to the raven-haired professor's suspicious stare. He'd never liked her much at school, and obviously he didn't like her much at Malfoy Manor, either. Ginny wondered if he knew what an intrusion his presence was.

The rest of the visit was uneventful, and though Ginny remained in the drawing room out of respect and good etiquette, she mostly listened to Lucius and Snape converse while nursing her own contemplative silence. She suspected they spoke guardedly in front of her, but apparently Lucius didn't want it any other way - she knew if he desired to speak with the other man alone, he would ask her to leave them, which he never did.

More than anything Ginny was glad Snape was not a particular friend of her parents' when he left. She didn't want to imagine their reaction if he felt any need to tell them what he now knew of her whereabouts. Ginny felt certain he wouldn't really even care…and Lucius had told him not to disturb them, after all. There was no reason to be worried.

Christmas was a quiet affair at Malfoy Manor that year. The elves fixed up an enormous luncheon feast which Ginny and Lucius consumed with relish, and then too full for complete comfort, they exchanged gifts. Much to Ginny's delight, Lucius was greatly pleased with the book she had chosen for him.

Ginny's face became decidedly more crimson as she opened the numerous gifts the blond wizard had purchased for her. Lucius looked on with a sly smile as she unwrapped yet another book, followed by a scarlet robe, a pair of emerald earrings, and a bottle of French perfume. She began to wonder if the pile would ever end.

When at last she reached the last gift – a necklace – she was silent.

"Are you not pleased?" asked Lucius looking at Ginny's face.

"It's just all so much," she replied in a slightly dismayed tone.

Lucius smirked. "Ah, but you deserve it my dear."

Letting out a small laugh, Ginny looked up from the pile to his face. "I don't know, Lucius, I've - well, I've never gotten so much in one go before, you know."

"Yes, I know," he replied softly, his smirk widening into a smile of pleasure. He reached for her hand and taking it in his, he raised it to his lips and gave her knuckles a soft kiss.

Closing A/N: This fic has a theme running through it – a theme summed up on one single word, which I used in this chapter, as well as the last. When I'm finished with the whole thing, I'll tell what it is. In the meantime anyone is welcome to hazard a guess!


	9. A 'Harry' Thing to Do

Disclaimer: I own Cappy. Go make me some sandwiches, Cappy. Other than that – nada. I definitely don't own Tolkien, or I would have made Legolas ugly.

Thank you all for your reviews! I'm so overwhelmed and flabbergasted by your response. I love it. :-D It's a joy every time I see a new review alert in my inbox. Keep reviewing, it keeps Lucius happy and keeps me working hard! ;-)

PEACE, yep. Amazing you should ask that question now…evil laughter db, thanks! Raclswt, nah, I love Snapey. He's just a pawn in my game. ;-) Dammit Rune, how did you guess??! Copperstring – woah, you touch my heart. Thank you for your awesome review. Lainniss, darling, you missed the point. She is not snippy because she's under the influence of Lucius. He's changing her. But thank you for the nice review! Hope you like this chapter. SilverShadow and D.Domin – nope! Not stopping! I am determined to finish this fic. And I will, assuming all the computers of the world don't spontaneously combust. Eryn – my darling, you are my biggest cheerleader. This chapter is for you. Thank you JamieLynn! It's an honor to know you're following this fic, as I've read yours. Havananights, duly noted, thank you. :-) Caipirinha The Piranha – oh no! You're onto me. ;-) DarkBella and Lady-Choas – hehe, thanks. :-D Trixie-Guest, woah, that is one awesome review – so very encouraging. Thank you a million!

_Chapter nine: A Harry Thing to Do_

Ginny slipped out of bed the morning after Christmas, slapped the rapidly sounding alarm, and hurried into the bathroom to make herself presentable for breakfast with Lucius. She took a short shower and cast a drying spell on her hair, put a touch of mascara on and set about choosing one of the garments she'd received for Christmas to wear that day. She finally settled on a fuchsia-coloured velvet robe, gathered just below the waist, with long bell sleeves. Appraising herself in the mirror, Ginny decided though it was beautiful, it was a very unusual sort of robe, and given the current trends in muggle fashion it could pass for a rather whimsical dress. She loved it, she loved the way it fit her, and the way the material felt on her skin. Seemingly Lucius preferred to see her in velvet - every single article of clothing he'd given her was velvet, and always in a strong, dark colour. She couldn't remember anything but pastels, silks and satin in Narcissa's wardrobes.

She eyed herself critically, wondering what she could do about the bags under her eyes due to her lack of sleep over the night, but as her gaze fell on her robes once more she felt like the immortal elf princess in the book she'd just read, bags and all.

It was a muggle novel that Draco had been forced to read (though Ginny suspected he hadn't actually) for the muggle studies class he had reluctantly taken in his sixth year, and the redhead found herself instantly smitten with it, though the descriptions of elves and wizards were somewhat laughable. The language was archaic and flowery, and the lands visited by the characters mystical beyond her wildest dreams. The tales of heroism thrilled her, and in a way the entire story reminded her of the recent battle and triumph over Voldemort.

_What amazing imaginations muggles have_, she had thought, and she'd gotten quite a laugh out of Cappy when she read him the chapter about the staggeringly beautiful elf witch who lived in an enchanted golden forest with her tree-dwelling people. "They sounds beautiful," the house elf agreed, "though Cappy is afraid he doesn't have any relatives like that!"

Ginny smiled at the memory, giving her hair a last smoothing over. After slipping her shoes on, she headed down to breakfast.

…

"Just for the morning, Ginevra," said Lucius as he buttered a piece of toast, "I daresay you'll have enough reading to keep you occupied until I return." He smiled slyly at her from across the table, pushing the plate of toast in her direction. Ginny wondered if he would still be smiling if he knew the books she'd been reading so avidly lately were penned by muggles.

"I understand," she nodded. It would be nice to have a few hours to herself. She was still slightly staggered by his show of overwhelming generosity, and subsequently feeling a tad awkward around him.

"Excellent," Lucius commented in a pleased tone. "I need to see my solicitor again about a matter of importance."

She wondered what that could possibly be, but felt it impertinent to ask and the blond man didn't elaborate further on his own.

…

Ginny spent the next hour drinking tea and reading, only pausing to say goodbye to Lucius as he left, once again assuring her he wouldn't be gone longer than half the day. She was reading what turned out to be the prequel to the muggle fantasy novel she'd enjoyed so much, and was startled terribly when the doorbell rang a half hour later during a particularly exciting part of the story involving a great many dwarves and a very large tree.

She remained in her chair by the fire, wondering who on earth could be at the door. It couldn't possibly be Snape again, and who else would visit? She waited to hear Cappy answer it, but after almost a minute she decided he must be occupied down in the lower pantry storeroom and hadn't heard. As Richter couldn't be relied upon for anything, the disgruntled redhead had no choice but to answer it herself.

Rising, she continued to wonder who could be visiting, her mind coming back to the single conclusion that Lucius must have been home early and couldn't find his key.

Somewhat cautiously, Ginny muttered an unlocking spell and pulled the enormous brass handle, swinging back the oaken door. Standing there before her was a young lady about her own age, with brown eyes and somewhat bushy brown hair, her wand upraised and an expression of sheer panic on her flushed face.

"Hermione?"

"Ginny! Thank God you're alright!" The girl exclaimed, launching herself into the redhead's arms. She was sopping wet from the morning drizzle, but she didn't seem to notice or particularly care.

Ginny pulled back. "Hermione! H-how did you get here?" she stuttered. The other girl glanced around the room quickly, searching for something.

"Where is he?"

"Where is who? Oh! Lucius? Oh he's in town for the morning - why?" Ginny asked, perplexed, and still in too much shock to give her friend a proper greeting.

Hermione visibly relaxed. "Oh good," she said quickly, "then we best be going now before he returns."

Ginny shook her head. "Go? No…I'm not going anywhere. Hermione, how did you know to find me here?" She already knew the answer. _Damn that treacherous greasy bastard._

"Oh Ginny," Hermione wailed, "Professor Snape visited this morning, he came to see your parents he – he said he had news for them, but they weren't there, they'd already gone into work so I persuaded him to tell me instead. He told me you were with Lucius Malfoy, and he wasn't sure what was going on…" She took a deep breath before continuing.

"I was terrified! I looked up the address in the ministry directory the moment he left and I came straight away! I'm so glad to see you, Ginny. I was so worried that something dreadful had happened." Hermione bit her lip, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

Ginny laughed. "Oh Merlin, Hermione – I'm fine! Mr. Malfoy isn't keeping me here against my will or anything."

Hermione looked rather incredulous. "He – he isn't?"

"No," laughed Ginny. "I can't believe you rushed over here without telling anyone when you thought I was in _danger_!" She shook her head. "Oh Hermione, what a 'Harry' thing to do - I'd have thought _you_ would be more sensible."

Hermione was biting her lip again, a thing she only did when she was very agitated. "Ginny why _are_ you here then?"

"It's a long story," Ginny sighed. She noticed a pair of violet eyes staring at her from a doorway. "Cappy! Make up some sandwiches and tea, please. Come on in and have a sit down, Hermione, I'll tell you about it," Ginny invited.

"So I'm here," Ginny finished, after telling Hermione about her adventures beginning with the night at the ball when she recovered the lost ring, how it had transported her to Malfoy Manor, Malfoy's invitation, and everything else that had happened up to the present.

"That's incredible," Hermione marveled at the tale. "I can't believe you've stayed here all this time. But I'm here now - we can leave as soon as you're ready."

"Leave?" Ginny queried. "No. I'm not leaving. I can't leave Lucius - Mr. Malfoy," she corrected herself. "Not right now, anyway. I thought you'd gather that from my story."

"You can't honestly mean to stay here," Hermione said disapprovingly. "I have a ministry car a quarter of a mile away. Pack up your things and I'll take you home before I go into work this afternoon."

Ginny was becoming irritated. "I'm not leaving, Hermione," she said firmly. "I live here now. At least - right now I do. It would be so rude of me to just up and leave when he's not even at home!"

Hermione sighed and furrowed her dark brows. "How can you stay with Malfoy knowing all the terrible things he's done? Everyone hates him for his part in the war! He was in Voldemort's inner circle!"

"He's changed from all that," Ginny argued dismissively. "He's been very kind to me. Why shouldn't I stay? I haven't anything to return to really, except you and mum and dad, but I don't think any of you need me that much. Mr. Malfoy has been so generous to me. I live better than I ever have before. I'm perfectly comfortable. Look at the robes I'm wearing! He gave me this yesterday." She held out a sleeve for the brunette to feel the exquisite material.

Hermione touched it dutifully, but she seemed more agitated than ever. "Because it's improper," she responded softly.

"Damn propriety!" Ginny exclaimed hotly. "We're getting on fine!"

Hermione met her eyes ruefully. "Ginny, please tell me – are you sleeping with him?"

Ginny's face flushed with her temper - how _dare_ she ask such a question. "That's none of your business," she exclaimed angrily.

"Oh Ginny," Hermione sobbed, "I only ask because I care about you – it makes a difference. Oh please tell me! I only want to help you."

Ginny sighed, pursing her lips. She stared at the empty plate the girls had taken sandwiches from earlier, during her story. Cappy made terrific sandwiches.

"No," she said at length. "He hasn't laid a hand on me." She met Hermione's eyes. "I'm not lying. Do you think I'd lie to you about it knowing that you won't believe me anyway?"

Hermione seemed relieved. "I do believe you," she conceded. She took the redhead's hand in hers and held it tightly. "Please promise me that you won't. A man like that – a man like _Malfoy_, doesn't give such splendid gifts to young women unless he, er, expects something in return at some point or another."

Ginny was insulted that her friend thought her so naïve. _Of course_ she knew that. Wisely, she remained silent – better for Hermione to think her naïve than to know that she had not only conceived of this notion, but that she would be a willing participant when the time came for him to collect.

Hermione squeezed her hand. "Are you sure you won't come with me? I won't be able to stop worrying about you, knowing you're here alone with him."

"No, I won't," Ginny held firm. "But don't worry about me. He's not like he was before. He really has changed," she assured the other girl.

"But how do you know, really?" Hermione persisted. "Why would he change so much?"

Ginny sighed. "The deaths of his wife and son really took a toll on him. I don't know how much he really cared for his wife, but he loved Draco more than anything. You remember how he used to spoil him. And Azkaban! He spent several years there, you know."

Hermione visibly shuddered at the name of the wizard prison. "Azkaban," she echoed disconcertedly. "Yes, Azkaban has changed many, though not necessarily for the better."

"You went to Azkaban for ministry training, didn't you Hermione?" Ginny asked. She had a sudden thought. "Tell me about it – please?"

"Oh it's a dreadful place!" Hermione exclaimed, her face conveying the remembered horror she still felt from her visit. "It's dank and rotten. All the prisoners are shaved and dressed in white garments sort of like sacks with holes for the head and arms – like house elves, only worse because they're never clean. There are anti-cheer charms everywhere. Even without the dementors it's a terribly unhappy place. It's really dark, only lit with green lights in the hallways – but it's almost pitch-black in the cells. The prisoners aren't allowed to interact at all, like muggle prisoners. No decent Auror will go near it - the Auror guards there are not very much better than the prisoners themselves."

Ginny was almost moved to tears imagining Lucius in such a place. _"The indignities of Azkaban are such as you cannot even imagine, Miss Weasley," _his voice echoed in her mind.

Hermione's voice lowered as if she didn't want the walls to hear what she had to say. "They torture the prisoners. They're not supposed to, of course, unless specifically given an order from the Minister of Magic, but they do anyway. It's a sort of sport among the guards." She took a deep breath, her eyes wide. "It gets very out of hand. I heard from a friend at the ministry that a former Death Eater was tortured to death recently - he was on the cover-up squad and saw it for himself. No one's supposed to know about it, of course, but news at the ministry gets around."

"How could that _not_ change someone?" Ginny asked quietly.

"Oh it does," Hermione agreed, "but not for the better! Most of them go mad in there."

"Lucius isn't mad," Ginny argued. "He's quite sane. Sirius escaped from the Azkaban _with_ the dementors without going crazy – surely you can believe someone else could as well?"

"Maybe," admitted Hermione reluctantly. "That still doesn't make me comfortable with you staying here."

"But I'm still going to stay," Ginny countered. "And you can't tell anyone, Hermione. As far as my parents are concerned, you never saw me today, and I'm working for a rich family as a house keeper. It would hurt them, Hermione, they wouldn't understand. If you're my friend, if you respect my wishes and our friendship, you'll keep my secret!"

Hermione sighed. She seemed to want to protest, but she lowered her eyes and nodded. "Yes, I'll keep your secret. But you must promise me that if Malfoy starts acting strange, or if he tries to take advantage of you, you'll leave right away and get a hold of me. And I want at least one owl from you a week, to know that you're alright. Promise me, Ginny."

"I promise," Ginny agreed. She paused and then put her arms around the other girl. "Don't think I don't appreciate your coming here, Hermione. Thank you for trying to help," she said softly. As she pulled away Hermione gave her a small, sad smile.

Ginny began to say something else, but she was disturbed by the sound of the drawing room door opening. "I'm home Ginevra," Lucius greeted, pausing when he saw the redhead wasn't alone. "You didn't tell me you were expecting company," he said slightly reprovingly.

"I wasn't," Ginny smiled. "Professor Snape was good enough to tell Hermione where to find me, so she dropped in." Ginny spoke casually, but she knew full well that Lucius would be furious with Snape for disobeying him, and she thought with satisfaction of the revenge the blond wizard would no doubt extract upon the greasy git.

"I see," Lucius said softly. "Miss Granger, is it? Or is it Mrs. Weasley now?"

Hermione blushed. "Miss Granger," she mumbled.

"Good of you to come visit Ginevra, Miss Granger," Lucius drawled. "I'm sure she has missed the benefit of female conversation." His manner wasn't particularly warm, but he was perfectly civil - more so than he'd ever been to Hermione before.

"Hermione was just leaving," Ginny told him, escorting the other girl out of the room.

"Good day, Miss Granger," bade Lucius disinterestedly. "I do hope you'll visit again sometime," he added without genuine conviction.

In the foyer, Ginny gave Hermione a quick hug. "Remember your promise," Hermione urged her. "Of course I will," said Ginny, smiling.

Hermione gave her a brief answering smile and stepped out into the rain, pulling out her wand and muttering a water-deflection spell as she walked away from the house.

"Merlin," Ginny breathed to no one in particular as she closed and locked the door, "what a weekend! This place is getting like the emergency room at St. Mungos!"

Author's notes: You probably can't tell in this chapter, but I love Hermione. She has an uncomfortable but important role in this fic. I hope to feature her someday in something that will showcase her strengths more fully. Also, I used the word that is the theme of the fiction again in this chapter. Mwahahaha.


	10. Ave Dominus

Disclaimer: I don't own Lucius, he owns me! Everything else besides the names of the house elves and…uh…certain events belong to JK Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic, and some other people (you know who you are). I just like to take them out for a spin every now and then and make them do things they wouldn't normally do.

Opening author's note: This chapter is really good when accompanied by a nice largo Mozart piece. I listened to _Laudate Dominum_ while I composed a great deal of it – I find Mozart enhances my writing. I hate to spoil the content…but this is what makes this fic a PG-13, so be forewarned, if you don't like the idea of nasty old Lucius Malfoy smooching on sweet little Ginny.

_Chapter ten: Ave Dominus_

"I _knew_ I forgot something," Ginny muttered, slipping out of bed and crossing to the door of her room. She and Lucius had retired rather early that night, both fatigued from such a trying day – trying in different ways for each. Apparently the wizard's visit to Diagon Alley had not yielded the results he had hoped for, and Ginny was still puzzling over Hermione's unexpected visit.

Two emotions grappled within her for dominance - defiance and warmth. She was touched by the extent of her friend's concern for her, and yet she merely wished to be left well enough alone - left alone by Snape, by Hermione, and definitely by the rest of the wizarding world. It was none of their business what sort of relationship she and Lucius Malfoy had. She didn't need anyone else to remind her it was unusual.

Too thoughtful for much conversation, she had retired early, as had Lucius when he found he wouldn't have a companion in the drawing room. Unfortunately she'd forgotten her book, which she now desired to take her mind off the internal debate which had kept her from sleeping for the past hour.

Collecting her wand from the dresser, the redhead creaked open the door and stepped out into the hall in her nightgown.

"Accio book," she muttered softly into the darkness, pointing her wand in the direction she supposed the drawing room to be. A moment later the volume came hurtling toward her, and she caught it like an oversized snitch in her open hand. She turned to go back to her room but paused in mid-step to listen. What was that noise? She thought she heard someone humming, or possibly moaning, though it seemed to have a sort of melody to it.

"What the…?" Ginny crept quietly down the hall toward the mysterious noise. It grew slightly louder, but she couldn't identify the source. "Hullo? Is someone there?" she whispered into the darkness. There came no reply.

She felt an icy cold creep over the back of her neck. Shuddering, Ginny decided to go back to her room - and lock the door. As she turned, something hard and cold brushed her side, and she found she could move no further as the hem of her nightdress was being held by some unseen thing. She let out an alarmed scream, dropped her book and began to pull at the material, but it was held fast. Frantically she pulled, gasping for air in her terror until she felt warm arms around her, and a comforting voice in her ear.

"Shh…Ginevra…calm down. It's merely a statue." Lucius cast an illuminating glow from his wand onto a marble figure, which did indeed have Ginny's nightgown clasped in its lifeless hand.

"Sometimes they move," he explained, prying the fingers of the once more inanimate object off her nightgown.

Ginny felt completely ridiculous. A blush steadily rose in her cheeks and she lowered her eyes with a sheepish smile. "Thank you. I'm sorry I woke you up screaming while being attacked by marauding statues."

Lucius chuckled softly. "Perfectly understandable, my dear. It would alarm anyone." His eyes roved down her face to her torso, and he added thoughtfully, "I'd always rather wondered what you looked like in that nightdress." Ginny blushed even more, though not from shame. For the first time she noticed that Lucius was not wearing a shirt, only a pair of black satin pajama bottoms.

"Are you quite alright, Ginevra?" he asked with concern, resting his hands on her shoulders lightly as he peered into her face - the redhead welcomed the physical contact in her flustered state.

"Yes…I'm fine," she said slowly, blushing even more. The blond man seemed reluctant to pull away from her – not that she wanted him to. "Good," he said in a soft, intimate tone, a hint of a smile creeping over his lips. He took a step toward her, reaching up with his right hand to brush his fingertips over her hot cheek. Then he leaned down and softly kissed her forehead.

Somewhat surprised, the redhead looked up to meet his eyes. He drew closer still, grasping her chin with the fingers of his left hand, and gently, tentatively, he brushed his lips over hers. The blood rushed to her head and she felt as if her heart had stopped.

She forced herself to react immediately, clasping his right hand in her own and leaning up to him before he'd completely drawn away, capturing his mouth with hers. Encouraged, Lucius moved his hand from her chin to her cheek, and plied her lips with more ardor than the first time. She gave in to him completely, allowing him access to her mouth with his tongue. In a moment his arms were around her waist, holding her to him tightly as he kissed her with the force of passion.

Ginny was overwhelmed by the heady sensation of his lips and tongue, by his gentle probing, and the comfort of his warm palm spread over the small of her back. It had been so long since she'd had a really good kiss. She felt his eyelash flutter against her cheek, and the press of his body against hers as he continued, taking her breath away. She was rapidly becoming enflamed.

After an all-too-short eternity, Lucius pulled away from her. He caressed her face softly and planted a kiss in the middle of her forehead, running a long, white finger through her ginger locks. His eyes shined with roguish delight. Hesitatingly Ginny ran her own smooth fingers over his cheek, her eyes running over his face. He was attractive to her – she had noticed this before, oh yes she had noticed, but in the weeks prior had managed to keep it in the back of her mind. Now she let this thought run rampant in her mind and soaked the sight of him up. His smile widened as she did so; he enjoyed this, this exultant admiration. Leaning closer to her, his hot breath warming the flesh on her shoulder, he took her small hand in his own and kissed the palm, then returned it to his cheek.

They stood like that for a moment, caught in their own world of discovery. At last Lucius pulled her to him again and plied her mouth with a soft but deeply amorous kiss.

After an all-too-short eternity, Lucius pulled away from her. He took her right hand from off his shoulder and held it tightly. "Come," he commanded, leading the way down the hall, away from her room.

Obediently she followed, unquestioning; she had few doubts as to where they were going. There was a door ajar at the very end of the hall - the door to his room. She'd always wondered if they slept in rooms in the same wing, but had never observed where her companion went at night.

Pushing the door all the way open, Lucius led her into his bedroom. Under any other circumstances she would have been highly curious, but as it was, Ginny was too overwhelmed by Lucius himself to notice much of his quarters. Yet there was the bed, directly in front of them, covered with a bedspread of luxuriant dark silk, and the blond wizard was leading her toward it.

Lucius turned her to face the bed and she remained standing as he sat on the edge, his hands moving to her hips, and for a moment they merely stared at each.

The redhead followed the lines of his face with her eyes…the lines in is forehead, the lines just between his grey eyes, the soft lines directly under them, the line of his nose and mouth and chin…

His face was pale, but in the moonlight it was beautiful. He was curiously attractive and she'd always known it, but pushed her feelings to the back of her mind. Now she let them take over; let herself admire him, enjoying the feeling of his touch, and his eyes, roving approvingly over her figure. After a moment he guided her face down to his and again plundered her lips with his own, invading her mouth and drinking her in.

She was becoming drunk with the scent and taste of him, intoxicated with the sensation coursing through her body. His kisses were addictive like the finest wine, and still sweeter. She had never imagined it would be like this.

Pulling away, Lucius moved up the bed and kneeled, smiling at her slyly. He opened both arms in a beckoning gesture and softly commanded for her to come to him. Obediently Ginny climbed onto the mattress and scooted over to him, boldly seating herself in his lap, straddling his hips. She ran a tentative hand through his silky platinum hair and graced him with a slight smile of her own.

Lucius remained still for a moment, then followed her example and reached for a few strands of her red hair, which he ran through his fingers as if it were a lock of spun gold. "Beautiful," he whispered. His hand moved from her hair to her shoulder, the other coming to rest on the small of her back. He leaned close to grace her neck with a soft kiss. Once again Ginny's breath was stolen away at the sensation. She gasped softly and threw back her head which the blond man reached up to support, as he ran a line of soft, wet kisses down her ivory neck. Once he reached the shoulder, he pushed the loose hair out of the way and took time to grace her collarbone with his tongue and lips. Lazily he traced the line of her shoulder with his tongue, pushing the strap of her nightgown down when he reached it.

Ginny allowed a soft moan to escape her lips; she was starting to burn, through her entire body, from her shoulders to her toes. The room around her was dissolving into hazy pink desire. The wizard's hands had left her shoulders and were freeing her torso from the confines of her nightgown, his lips ardently following each newly revealed bit of skin. She drew a breath in sharply as he found the silky smooth concave of her ribcage with his tongue. His hands continued southward, down her hips to her thighs, which he caressed softly with his fingertips. She was too overwhelmed with each sensation to do anything but hold tightly to his shoulders.

Slowly, he griped her around her waist and lowered her to the bed. Ginny stared up at him, her brown eyes full of meaning. She was going to enjoy being his.

…

Outside a pair of violet eyes watched through the door, which had been left ajar in haste. They filled with tears, and a soft, sighing moan echoed through the hallway, unheard by the occupants of the room.

Cappy felt his heart would break, to see his master so use his beloved Miss Weasle. The redhead would always be his in his heart.

Yet through his tears the house elf rejoiced, for how could his master now part with his beloved mistress? No, surely now she would_ have_ to stay.

Closing author's note: Is that the sort of 'get together' so many of you have been asking me about? ;)


	11. Conversation

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Don't sue, or Lucius will curse you.

Opening A/N: Just when I think you guys couldn't possibly astound me more with your reviews, you do. I can't believe so many people like this fic, and actually feel like reviewing it. Keep 'em coming, it really helps me feel motivated to write! But just as a warning, this chapter has taken me a while to get out, and the subsequent entries probably won't come any faster. As this story draws to a close, it gets harder and harder to write.

_Jamie Lynn, Raclswt_, and _Lainniss_: Thanks a bunch for reviewing! Sorry for the wait. _Rune_: Which Gilbert and Sullivan operetta do you listen to? I'm partial to Pirates of Penzance, personally, but I also love The Mikado. And believe it or not, the Lucius in my head doesn't really look like JI. I mean, he sort of has his nose and mouth and general facial structure, I suppose…but he's different…he's not JI. JI just helped me see that the character was worth a second look. _Mia Malfoy_, I'm not keen on romances, so this is about the most unromantic romance fic you'll ever read. ;-) Any bits that seem romantic are entirely coincidental. _Silver Shadow_ – here's your character development. Hope you like! _Copperstring_: Thank you so much for reviewing. I love your reviews! They're so encouraging and uplifting. Even if everyone else stopped reading this story, I'd continue it just for you and your wonderful reviews. :-) The smut part _will_ be in the next chapter, and it will be from Lucius' POV. _Julia, ladykaresse_, lol, sorry for the long wait! _Ginamae_, thank you so much! "Smut with class" is exactly what I was going for. In fact, it's not really intended to be smut at all, but story development. AJRoald: Glad you like the fantastic Jason Isaacs. You're welcome to imagine Lucius looking like him if it takes your fancy. Good point about Ginny not leaving the manor – that's part of the story later, you'll see. :-) Thanks for your comments! _Britt_ and _Eryn, _thanks a bunch for your nice reviews! Eryn, I'm so glad you like Cappy. _Who cares_, you're getting both…but only one half of it in this chapter. You'll see what sort of ending it has, I suppose, I hope it makes everyone happy. _Moony_, w00t, you finally read it! :-D Glad you like it. Glad you like the Cappy thing…I'm rather pleased I did that also. _Caffeine_, there'll be more smut, and you'll see inside Lucius' mind. Just hang in there. ;-) Thanks for the review. _D.Domin_, glad to know you approve of my non-romantic stance! I was kinda worried about the reaction to that… _susan_: THANK YOU! _M.C_., wow, agony! Well, you can be out of agony now. :-D Thank you so much for your comment on my writing! That's very encouraging to hear. _Sara,_ well…I don't want to give away the ending. I hope you'll keep reading and find out. :-) _Pamela_, he has suffered a lot, yeah – but he's also done some terrible things. So you'll just have to see if he gets his just reward or not. _Gin gin_, holy smokes. You really want them together, don't you? The end is already planned out, and all the begging in the world won't help it. ;-) But maybe you'll like the end as it's already planned.

Not to reviews: As of next chapter, I'm going to stop replying to each of you individually, unless you have a question or a comment that really stands out. I don't mean to be stingy, I love your reviews, but I swear it takes me longer to think of something to say to each of you than to actually write the ruddy thing. ;-)

_Chapter Eleven: Conversation_

Ginny reclined on the bed, unconsciously contemplating the ceiling. Beside her Lucius did the same. Neither felt like disturbing the comfortable silence in which they were bathed at the moment.

Ginny was thinking about one of her Gryffindor friends at Hogwarts, a girl in her year named Antoinette, who had always been a little more grown up than the other girls in their dorm. Ginny had liked Antoinette, seeing in her the sort of boldness she herself wished to possess; they'd struck up a nice friendship. Antoinette was the first of Ginny's friends to lose her virginity (to a Ravenclaw boy two years ahead of her), and when she'd told Ginny about it, the redhead had asked curiously, "What's it like?" She had never forgotten Antoinette's answer. After thinking for a moment, the girl replied sagely, "Different - sex always changes things."

In the years that followed Ginny had observed this statement to be true. Every time a couple in her acquaintance took that particular plunge, things always seemed different between them. She'd never known it herself, as Harry's libido was rather squashed by the knowledge that Voldemort could swoop down on him at any moment.

But now…yes…she had no doubt it was true. Even only an hour after she could already tell things between Lucius and herself were different. She could see how the situation in a normal relationship could be worse as her mum had always cautioned her, but with Lucius it was decidedly better. She liked how bold she felt with him now, and she liked his softer bedroom manner.

Ginny took a perverse pleasure out of the thought that she'd done exactly what Hermione had asked her not to do, less than twelve hours after the request was made. If she kept their bargain she would be obliged to rush off immediately to send her concerned friend an owl so she could be whisked away. She laughed inwardly at the thought – Hermione would never get such an owl from her.

Lucius stirred from his reverie and turned to glance at Ginny's face, assuring himself she was still awake.

"Ginevra, tell me something…"

"Yes?" She replied lazily.

"…Am I your first?"

The question took her by surprise.

"Well," she stammered, "yes, er, yes you are." She cleared her throat and asked brusquely, "How could you tell? Was I complete rubbish then?"

He laughed. "No, of course not," he assured her. "You merely seemed a tad…ah…overwhelmed."

Ginny relaxed. "I suppose I was."

Lucius chuckled and reached over to take her hand. "You're a natural my dear," he teased. "I'm sure I'm only the first in a long line of your extraordinary conquests."

Laughing, she shook her head. "I doubt that," she disagreed.

"And why not?" said Lucius. "A beautiful young woman such as yourself…with no apparent fear of showing your interest in sexuality…you'll be very popular with the opposite sex, Ginevra. There's nothing more disappointing than an attractive woman with no libido."

The redhead raised an eyebrow. "I see…do you have personal experience with this?"

"Unfortunately," Lucius sighed.

After a beat, Ginny ventured, "Your wife?"

The blond man nodded. "She was on the last threads of those generations of women who were taught that only 'men and whores' enjoy sex. Other women her age had broken from that, of course – her sister for certain – but I'm afraid Narcissa was never a very _forward thinking_ woman."

"Tell me about her," asked Ginny boldly, half expecting him not to comply. To her surprise, he did.

"What d'you want to know?"

"What was she like?" prompted Ginny. "I never met her."

"She was the epitomy of etiquette and good breeding," said Lucius slowly. "She wasn't a warm or loving person – at least not to me, she wasn't."

"What else do you remember about her?"

"I remember she was an excellent hostess – and she had good taste in furnishings." He smiled. After a moment's pause he said thoughtfully, "Despite the beliefs and affiliations of her family, she was never keen on my alliance with the dark lord. She always claimed it would bring about my death – how ironic that it proved to be hers, instead."

Ginny nodded. "Did you love her?"

The wizard sighed. For an instant she wondered if she'd gone too far.

"I certainly believed I did at one point, before our marriage. She was a beautiful girl. Both our families pushed us toward it, feeling we were an excellent match and our lines would benefit from a joint heir."

The redhead scarcely dared breathe lest she break his flow of thought. Part of her could hardly believe he was willingly divulging so much personal information.

"She was very tiresome after our marriage, I'm afraid," he said reflectively. "At some point after Draco's birth I realized I couldn't bear the sight of her. But our mutual love for him kept us together. I suppose he was the bridge between us."

Ginny decided not to press her luck on the subject of the former Mrs. Malfoy any longer. She dropped the conversation and instead gloried in the feeling of his hand pressed into hers, and his warm body beside her. If _this is what it's like to have a lover_, she thought, _it's no wonder so many people seek them._

Lucius rolled on his side to face her. "What are _you_ thinking, Ginevra?" he asked in a drawl, echoing the question she had asked of him earlier in the night.

Ginny smiled. "I'm thinking how nice it is to be here."

"Is it really?"

"Yes," she said with a nod. "A year ago I wouldn't have wanted to be in the same room with you. But…you've changed from what I remember of you when I was a child." She smiled widely. "For one thing, you're not trying to kill me anymore."

"A regrettable incident," said Lucius delicately.

"Which incident? The time you tried to kill me in the Ministry of Magic, or the time you gave me a possessed diary that almost sucked out my soul?"

Lucius was clearly becoming uncomfortable. "Ah, both." He cleared his throat. "I was acting under orders. Obviously I'm now quite glad neither attempt succeeded."

"That's good to know," she assured him, laughing out loud.

"I know it was difficult for you," said the blond wizard softly. "It had nothing to do with you personally, of course."

Ginny nodded.

"I imagine your hatred for my father fuelled it, am I right? He said so after the time in the Ministry. He said you picked me because you knew it would get to him more than anyone else."

"That's correct," said Lucius awkwardly.

"I have little doubt that he would take drastic measures against you if he were to learn I've been with you all this time," she told him gravely.

She hadn't considered it before. Her mild-mannered father seemed incapable of harming anyone, but there was something about Lucius Malfoy that brought out a rare streak of rage in the kindly red-haired man. She remembered the two men recklessly fighting like caged wildcats in Flourish and Blott's at the beginning of her first school year. Fred and George, who took after Mrs. Weasley in terms of their temperament, had been highly proud of their father for sending Malfoy off with a black eye.

She felt a stab of guilt wring through her heart like the point of a sword. Had she betrayed her own father?

It didn't bear thinking about.

"But I don't suppose it's likely he'll find out, is it?" drawled Lucius.

A/N: Yes, I know. No smut yet. My dear friend Sirius told me she thinks too much smut all at once could be overwhelming, and I think she's right. I think the 'both' or else the 'smut' faction won, and I decided to go with both originally, but as I was writing the chapter the conversation sort of blossomed, and I've decided to save the smut bit for the next chapter. Go me.


	12. In Spite of the Warning Voice

Disclaimer: It still belongs to other people…thank heavens. If it were mine it wouldn't be nearly as good.

Opening author's note: This chapter was exceedingly difficult to write, which is why it took me so ruddy long. The next one should be out sooner. Also, I've been revising the story as well, fixing all the messed up HTML from my evil mac days, fixing sentences I didn't like the sound of and generally beefing everything up. I've done the first two chapters, as well as the last one written. The ending is changed, and I like the new version a lot better. What can I say, it's a work in progress! If you like this story, you might want to read the revised chapters because not only will they be better, but they'll be a little different.

This chapter is dedicated to my lovely Australian friend Cathie, who will blush when she sees I've dedicated it to her, and again when she reads through it and realizes why (…or when I have to explain it to her). It's also dedicated to all of you who have thought my Lucius is nice.

Oh and lastly…go see Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban if you haven't already!

_CeilingFan_, thank you so much for your kind review. I'm really flattered that you felt my little fic deserved a re-read. :) I hope you enjoy this chapter! _RunespoorOracle_ – good to see ya back, kid:) Good luck with the computer problems…I want an update on Blanc et Noir! Patience and Iolanthe, eh? Well, I could be evil and make a joke about the latter and our beloved wizard, but I'll refrain. ;) I generally listen to Beethoven and Mozart while I'm writing this story. I tried my Return of the King soundtrack once, but that's when I ended up working Tolkien into the story. Laudate dominum from _Vesperas Solemnis_ is my absolute favourite for writing the more…er…intimate scenes, if you know what I mean. _Leafling_: Thanks for the awesome review. I can see you absolutely 'get' my little story, and that thrills me beyond anything. It _is_ all about the psychology, which I feared would be very dull, but I'm thrilled that so many people seem to enjoy it anyway! I do hope you like the longer portion of this chapter written from Lucius' POV, because it was very hard to write! _Electryone_, after you read this chapter, I'd be interested to know if you still think Lucius is out of character. If you don't wish to review, you could always email me – my email address is in my profile. :) Thanks for the review! _ Slink_: Why did you read it when you obviously hated it (unless you only read the first couple chapters, in which case, I thumb my nose at you)? And why, oh why, did you review? That wasn't constructive, it was just criticism! ;) But thank you for saying I have potential as a writer, even if I'm not sure how you can say that since you pretty much ripped apart every single aspect of my story and writing. _AuroraNoctifer_: I'm so glad you like it…you had me worried with your last review there toward the beginning of the fic, I thought maybe I'd lost you due to a couple of complaints. ;) Thanks for sticking with it! I hope you like the developments in this chapter. And you're absolutely right about smut being like spice…mh! _RaiDorian_, having my story compared to chocolate is about the highest honour I can possibly think of! Thank you most kindly! There should be a few more chapters, at present I'm thinking maybe…four or five. So it's not over yet. ;) Thank you for the compliment on my characterization of Hermione…I quite like her as well, lol. _D.Domin_: No in fact, I don't tire of hearing you say that. Thank a million! ;)

To everyone else who reviewed: Thank you so much for your kind words and commentary. I'm so immensely pleased that you all enjoy my writing and my story. It does my heart good, and my ego even better! ;) With such a good response, perhaps someday I'll have the confidence to begin my novel (it's already planned out, imagine that).

_Chapter 12_: _In_ _Spite of the Warning Voice_

The pair hardly surfaced past the bedroom door the following day, and it took only two more nights before they gave up pretending Ginny slept in a different room. Lucius awakened her with a kiss that morning, and immediately asked her if she'd like to move her things into his room. She could do nothing but smile and nod - the gesture pleased her immensely.

Happy as she was, the adjustment period was no shorter. Ginny had shared a bedroom with other females all through school, and sometimes even her bed with Hermione at the Burrow. She was used to the way girls behaved at night, all the rituals of femalehood performed before nocturnal rest, and of course the talking – and oft times, giggling - that occasionally occurred after lights out.

But this wasn't like that.

Lucius was her _lover_, hard as it was to get her mind around the concept. If she giggled at all, at was for entirely different reasons.

For one thing, she found sharing a bathroom with him – even a very large, very ornate bathroom – rather difficult at first. She'd always been a modest girl, even living with six boys. Their mother had trained them early on to give their sister as much privacy as she needed. Lucius, on the other hand, had been married before and felt rather nonchalant about the whole business, therefore he had no qualms about walking in on her if he had any need to do so, and never seemed to notice the blush that crept into her cheeks.

Also Ginny had never before been aware of the large amount of time he spent grooming himself. It was rather sickening, if she didn't look at it with the proper amount of humour. Perhaps it _could_ be fun to stand in front of the mirror, carefully brushing and arranging your hair with your man, working equally hard on his own – it was certainly a new experience, anyway.

However, all in all she liked the situation. Lucius never failed to amaze her with his fluctuating moods, but he'd been surprisingly even of late, and quite pleasant. It just showed that even the most steadfast grumps melted a bit when plied with the proper amount of _amore_ of the physical variety.

And most of all she enjoyed sharing a bed with him. It made her feel secure to know he was by her side all through the night. He was a rather good bed mate - he didn't snore or steal the covers, and he didn't seem to mind her occasional bouts of restless tossing and turning. Strangely enough, he seemed to fall asleep as soon as he wanted to. It was true they didn't do much sleeping for a while, but when they did, she noticed he dropped off almost right away. She'd never been capable of getting to sleep quickly, even exhausted and spent she found herself staring at the ceiling for a while in bored contemplation. Sometimes she turned her gaze to the sleeping man next to her, and enjoyed the play of the moonlight on his pale face and hair, as she listening to his steady breathing. He _seemed_ peaceful, at least, though she doubted that was really so - he was haunted by too many demons.

Over all, Ginny reflected on one such occasion, she was very pleased with the current state of affairs.

…

Sunlight streamed in narrow beams through the uncurtained window, illuminating the room with the distinctive glow of early morning. Lucius heaved a sigh as his eyes fluttered open and caught sight of the small, red-headed figure beside him. He couldn't resist a self-indulgent smile. _Such a sweet revenge_, he thought.

It was true, she had worried him when she mentioned the mutual vendetta he and her father had possessed against each other since their school days. Too close to the real truth, once again…she was clever, sometimes too clever by far. But he had no doubt that his lavish gifts and his charm – that charm that had moved mountains in its prime – had won her over for good. _I'll be damned if she isn't falling in love with me_, he gloated.

He had to admit to himself that he enjoyed her company immensely. What had begun as a shrewd move in an old private battle had blossomed into a surprisingly pleasing companionship. Sometimes he wondered if he'd be able to dispense with that pleasure when the time came for the payoff he'd planned - the longer he lingered with her, the more unlikely it seemed.

But he certainly couldn't keep her, could he?

_She's too young you fool, and look at her_, he prodded himself, _a bloody Weasley._

And yet…

What a tremendous lover the girl made, especially for one so young and inexperienced. The women in his past had never opened up to pleasure the way she did; certainly not in the way she completely surrendered herself to him over and over again. She was amenable to trying new things which he found immeasurably exciting. And the sweet way she responded to his touch, sometimes he felt there was no greater paradise than her alabaster arms. Every time he took her he was reminded of the first time, secretly delighting in the knowledge that it had been he who had deflowered her. Someday they would certainly part, but he would always hold a piece of her, his mark upon her for all time. She would never entirely escape him.

His thoughts were jarred back to the present with a mental snap when he noticed her stirring beside him. Her brown eyes opened slowly and she stretched, flashing him a smile as bright as the sunlight that illuminated her ginger hair.

"Sleep well?" she asked, resting her head back on the pillow.

"I don't recall, so it seems so," said Lucius absently, running his long fingers over her exposed flesh.

Ginny laughed softly. "Why are men always so randy in the morning?" she queried, though the look in her eyes told him his touch was not unwelcome. She slid toward him on the smooth sheet and put her arms around his neck, resting her body against his. He kissed her cheeks and chin, then came to rest on her lips, plying them with soft ardency. He loved her lips, full and susceptible, and the way her red hair caught in his hands and drenched the pillow with crimson.

He ran his kisses down her neck, seeking to elicit a response. She always loved the feel of it and let him know through her moans and sighs. Even first thing in the morning, she was completely willing and open to him, a bright vessel seeking to be filled.

After a moment she pushed him away, only to catch him again, this time with kisses of her own. He loved this, when she took the initiative and explored him like some choice delicacy. He was perfectly aware of his appeal, but there was still some novelty in her approach – almost as if he were being worshipped. He'd never known a woman who did this, though many had been attracted to him; he put it down as a sign of her youth, which did not lessen his enjoyment in any way. He surrendered to her passions entirely, a slight smirk spreading over his generous mouth.

Pushing him back onto the bed she levered herself onto him, seating herself on his abdomen before she continued her ministrations.

Lucius caught a lock of her red hair in his fist and slid his other hand along her thigh. A mysterious draft ruffled her hair and cooled his burning skin, and for a moment Lucius felt as if he were somewhere else entirely, in a place he hadn't been for many years.

There, another redhead sat astride him, her innocent emerald eyes fixed on his face. He felt the ground beneath him, the soft grass on the exposed flesh of his arms and neck.

Ginny kissed down Lucius' chest, moving her body down his as she did so. She massaged his pale skin with the tips of her fingers, her long hair caressing his belly.

His eyes closed. In his mind's eye, he saw the sunlit field and the green-eyed girl, felt the breeze as if it even then blew upon him. He stared up at her face, enchanted with her and delighted with his own wickedness in seducing such a heavenly creature so much younger than himself.

Back in the present, Ginny positioned herself carefully, straddling his thighs. Beneath her, the blond man pulsed and writhed. His fingers curled around the excess material on the pillow his head rested on, his eyes still shut tightly.

Behind his closed eyelids, he was still in that field, feeling the breeze and drinking in the scent of the spring flowers. In his mind the two redheads, the green-eyed girl in his past, and the brown-eyed girl in the present had become one. She moved over him in a slow but steady rhythm, crushing the last frail petals of her virginity. He moaned, sighed; felt the wind caress his face and the sunlight warming his bare skin. He gloried in her innocence lost, the blossom of her fragility captured in his own hand. Those green eyes stared at him like the gaping maw of infinity. He reached up to cup her face in his hand and drank in her full, soft lips, losing himself in her sweet scent.

In response to a particularly strong wave of pleasure, his eyes snapped open and his mind lurched though nearly twenty-five years and into the present, to see a different girl astride him. His Ginevra, her body leaned back, supported on her hands, skin glistening with sweat, rosy breasts thrust up to the sky. She was crimson all over in her passion, and her moans were as music to his ears. He thrust up toward her, his own ecstatic moan harmonizing with hers.

Who was that girl in his memory? He remembered her green eyes as if he'd seen them only moments ago. He bent his mind back.

Ah yes…_her_, of course. He realized with a shudder that in fact he _hadn't_ taken her that day. She was three years his junior and a fiery and beautiful mudblood, which made her conquest all the more interesting. She was sweet, innocent, naive, and wholly unspoiled. Something within him made himself let her go, if only to prolong and therefore heighten the moment of actual surrender. But she caught wind of his reputation after that, and wouldn't again speak to him, let alone put herself in a position to be seduced. To his chagrin, he lost the prize forever, and later it was won by a man who would become his enemy. Now they were both dead. It was an ironic world.

Ginny cried out as her body contracted in ecstatic pleasure. With a wave of excruciating pleasure, Lucius felt himself release also. The redhead took a deep breath, her eyes closed, unmoving. After a long moment she lowered herself onto him and clasped her arms around his neck. She whispered something, but in his hazy state he couldn't make it out, and in fact didn't particularly try. He said nothing, but stroked her hair as she laid her head contentedly on his shoulder.

Closing A/N: …So he's had an ulterior motive all along. I couldn't tell you that too soon, now could I? He may seem nicer, and he may seem changed, but in truth he's only more cunning and a little less blatantly malevolent.

Anyone who can figure out where I got the chapter title will be rewarded with some extra insight into Lucius' current state of mind. Yes, that's a challenge!


	13. Through a Glass Darkly

Disclaimer: I still don't own it. Thank goodness - I don't write as fast as JK Rowling does; the fans would have eaten me alive by now. We won't even go into how much _better_ her writing is… ;)

Opening author's note: As a new reader pointed out to me in a review of the last chapter, Ginny's first name is not, in fact, Virginia, but Ginevra. Much to my horror, I came across it again on JKR's website when I was skimming for new info on _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_. As you can imagine, this little recently revealed fact totally screws up my fic. I had considered just leaving it, but that would be too much of a cop-out for my perfectionist self to stand…so I'm adding the changing of Virginia to Ginevra to the list of things I'm editing as I go back through the fic; effective immediately. In the next chapter Lucius will call her Ginevra, and eventually, I will change the title of the fic to Ginevra as well, so please take note of that if you're actively following this story. :)

RaiDorian – I loved PoA. While I have some minor complaints about things the filmmakers left out (and the depiction of some of the things that did make it to the screen), I feel it flows better cinematically than the first two films. It's really artistic and well done. And dang, Daniel Radcliffe is getting cute! What did you think? Thank you so much for your encouragement. :) You're awesome. IsabelA113 - thank you! Yep, you're quite right about the chapter title. I'm so glad some people are still familiar with the classics. ;) AFourLeafClover – Lucius/Ginny is definitely a guilty pleasure, but oh such a pleasure. I don't know what it is about the Malfoy men that makes them so appealing…I expect JK Rowling is laughing at all of us Malfoy lovers about now. ;) Thanks for your comments! And enjoy your red highlights…I'm blonde, but I loved it when I experimented with red hair. ;) Alicia Black – ding ding, it is Cole Porter! Awesome! Thanks so much for reading. And thanks for all the compliments. blushes Oh no, I'm not abandoning this fic. I will finish it if it bloody well kills me (that is if Lucius doesn't first). Emma-Trelawney – heh, cool name. Ingenious? Really? Why thank you! That's a big compliment. :) I'm glad you gave it another shot. RunespoorOracle – I'm really pleased that you like it. I have quite a bit to live up to as a fan of your fic, you know. ;) 1812! Now why didn't I think of that? Oh…and I'm pretty pleased with the Lily/Ginny crossover myself. One of the few things I think I've done well on this one. Slateone – well, you can see my opening note up there…I wish JK had revealed the Ginevra thing sooner, would have saved me a ton of work. :P But oh well. I'm sorry you think Lucius/Ginny is sick, though I'm glad you stuck the fic out…I probably would have thought the same thing before I developed a taste for that pairing. :) Thanks for your comments! Duchess Emily – you win the award for having the coolest review of the chapter. :D I totally know what you mean about Lucius fics. There just aren't enough good ones out there. I'm so glad you consider mine among the good. I sometimes get butterflies from really good fanfiction too. ;) Thank you so much for pointing out the 'blond vs. blonde' thing – argh, I can NOT believe I didn't realize that. It's being changed. Oh, and by the way... I would love to chat more with you about the types of fics you like over email. My email address is in my profile, if you're interested. :) Eryn – you win lots of hugs for that comment, dearest. I'll email you soon, and I do hope you like this chapter. Too Removed am I – yes indeed. Very astutely put. Thanks for your comments. S.s.Harry – yep, it was Lily. Shocking, isn't it?

Thank you to everyone else who reviewed! I love all your reviews, even the one sentence ones…they're all really encouraging!

_Chapter thirteen_ – _Through a Glass Darkly_

"I'm afraid I'll be away tomorrow Ginevra," said Lucius, waving a piece of parchment delivered by his owl only moments before.

Ginny tried to hide her disappointment. She had already made plans for them for the following day, plans that did not involve her lover being called away. Finally she said, "Can it not wait? Tomorrow is supposed to be lovely and I'd hoped we'd be able to spend the afternoon outdoors…," one look at his face told her there was no chance.

"I'm afraid it's from the Ministry." He showed her the Ministry of Magic seal. "It looks like Fudge's replacement wishes to see me. I can't imagine why."

Ginny was taken aback. "Fudge was replaced?" She wasn't even aware that his term was up. And it certainly surprised her that he hadn't been chosen again. People seemed to like Fudge, regardless of his (rather glaring) mistakes.

"Indeed he has, by a man named Dernhelm Mudbuggle," said Lucius, eyeing the letter critically, as if to discern the nature of the new Minister of Magic by studying the parchment he used. "As I recall, I met him once quite some time ago. I didn't think very much about him at the time. I definitely dislike the idea of his being Minister of Magic, however. He was an Auror at one point, a very unsympathetic sort - humourless, of course - and he has dreadful taste in apparel."

"What would he want with you?"

"I won't know until I see him tomorrow."

…

Ginny awoke to an empty bed the following morning. She peered out the window and sighed – clear blue sky, for once. There were little buds on all the trees and the heather bushes were showing the faintest hint of green. It would be a gorgeous early March afternoon, still cold, but not so windy as it had been of late, and she had been sure she'd be able to persuade Lucius to enjoy some outdoor recreation with her while the day was at its warmest. They'd been taking walks for a month or so. Occasionally she went by herself, but mainly the two strolled together, and it had given her ideas about what sort of things they could do in the grass when the weather was warm enough.

That certainly wouldn't be today. She placed her palm on the cold windowpane and decided it was probably still too chilly anyway.

Lucius was through with breakfast when she wandered downstairs. He kissed her hurriedly and grabbed his cloak – then he was gone.

Ginny smiled to herself as she watched him disapparate outside. _Kind of like being married_, she thought. She wondered humorously if he'd shout, "Hi Honey, I'm home!" when he returned like in those quaint old muggle stories..._not likely_.

She banished her grievances as she breakfasted on some coffee and toast, stoutly determining to make the best of her day alone. She hadn't owled Hermione in almost two weeks, and she hadn't read much lately either. In fact, she hadn't been out of the constant presence of Lucius since the day after Christmas…almost three months. Perhaps she _needed_ the break from him. Still, it was quite an adjustment, dining by herself in the big empty dining room, which seemed cold and dank without the conversation of her friend and lover.

After breakfast she settled into the drawing room and set herself to the task of coming up with something to repot to Hermione that sounded suitably dull. She had the feeling that _"This week we've made love in several different positions," _wouldn't go over very big with her protective friend. In the end she decided to write about their walks, as there was nothing particularly threatening about walking - hopefully Hermione wouldn't find it too romantic.

After she finished the letter she leaned back in her chair, rested her chin on her hands and let out a sigh. It was ten after eleven, and his appointment was at ten thirty…how long could a meeting take, anyway? _Ginevra Weasley,_ she thought to herself, annoyed, _you're pining._

With a groan of disgust, she pulled herself out of the chair and headed upstairs to have a shower.

…

Dressed, makeup applied and hair fixed, Ginny wandered into the downstairs hall. Where was Cappy? She glanced at the big wooden clock by the staircase – just a little after noon. The elf was probably in the kitchen, preparing lunch. Ginny didn't think she had ever been in the kitchen during her stay at Malfoy Manor, but if she could find it she would certainly change that.

She ventured into the darkened dining room and looked for a door which could possibly lead her beyond into the room she sought, but there was nothing there besides a grand oaken sideboard with ornate dishes proudly displayed on the upper shelves. The redhead peered at the dishes and her curiosity was snagged by a funny looking plate with little multi-coloured doors painted on it. Hesitantly, she picked it up and jumped back as a real door appeared in the wall. _I think I know what that is_, she thought, putting the dish down and entering the kitchen.

"Miss Weasley has come to see Cappy!" squealed the elf with delight. After greeting him, Ginny looked around the kitchen. It was spotlessly clean and stocked with every sort of magical cooking appliance and gadget a cook could possibly want. An idea struck her.

"Cappy, why don't you let me make supper?" she offered.

The elf was aghast. "Miss Weasley…cook?"

"Yes," said Ginny, "normal women do it all the time. I'd love to, you know. It would give me great pleasure."

With a dignified smile, the elf handed her the wooden cooking spoon he'd been drying. "Cappy would be honored to help Miss Weasley cook supper."

An hour later, Ginny sighed with contentment as she surveyed the fruit of her labours. "Would you like to taste test it, Cappy?" she offered. The elf grinned at her as he tasted a bite of her chicken pasta alfredo. "Perfect," he sighed.

"Great." Ginny was glad to see she hadn't forgotten how to cook, having been waited upon for so many months. At home at the Burrow and at the Order headquarters she had helped her mother prepare meals often. "Just keep it warm until Lucius gets home, will you?"

_Now what to do,_ thought Ginny as she left the kitchen. She went upstairs and changed into her favourite robe - the green velvet one, the first present Lucius had ever given her - and brushed her hair.

She stared into the mirror for a long moment, sighing. It seemed to her that she had aged ten years since the day she agreed to stay at Malfoy Manor. There were slight shadows under her eyes. The brown orbs that looked back at her held hidden secrets she'd never even dreamed of six months ago. She looked down at herself…she was a woman, no longer a little girl, in both body and mind. For almost two years she had legally been an adult, but it wasn't until quite recently that she had felt it.

Sometimes, deep in the night, she wondered what her life would have been like if she had never found the ring, if Lucius had never invited her to stay, if she had never stumbled out into the hall that night and into his arms. Certainly she was enjoying her life with him…but she couldn't always fool herself that she didn't feel guilty. Guilty for deceiving her parents, and guilty for not waiting for Harry to come to his senses. Guilty for living with her lover, unwed. Guilty for accepting his gifts like a common -

But no, she never allowed herself to go there.

…

Ginny felt decidedly drowsy in her cozy, overstuffed chair in the drawing room as she listened to the soft chiming of the grandfather clock and the gentle whistle of the breeze against the windowpanes. She blinked once, then twice, then finally allowed her eyes to shut for the journey into sweet oblivious sleep.

She felt herself falling, descending into surrounding darkness like a black tunnel. At the end of the tunnel there was a soft glimmer of light, drawing her on, beckoning her with its warmth. She decelerated and began to float toward the light. Suddenly she found herself floating above a marble floor, in a vague, hazy room full of strange and beautiful shapes in shades of lavender, like flowery clouds in the fields of childish imagination. Slowly the haze began to clear away, leaving only a lingering mist. She turned around and around and wondered, _Where__ have I seen this room before? _

She floated along the floor until she reached an enormous wardrobe which stood by two others, exactly alike. She peered inside and saw it was full of beautiful clothes in pastel colours. She reached out to touch the silky fabrics, but her fingers came up short. She moved closer, but still she could not reach them. Closer still, her hands seemed even farther from their prize. The pale pinks, greens, golds and blues appeared to her like candy floss, begging to be touched and felt and enjoyed. Finally she threw herself at the wardrobe, full force, flying headlong through the air…

But instead of landing on the soft clothes she was once more descending in blackness, lost.

_Ginevra.___

_Ginevra.___

_Ginevra, dearest.___

A voice awoke her from her dream. A pair of silvery grey eyes. A white, long fingered hand, feeling her clammy forehead.

"Ginevra?"

"You're back."

"Yes. Are you feeling quite all right, my dear?" Lucius offered her his arm as she stood, his concern registering on his face.

"I'm fine," said Ginny quickly. "How was your meeting? What did the Minister want with you?"

The blond man heaved an enormous sigh. "Blackmail."

Knowing he would elaborate in his own time, Ginny said nothing, but furrowed her brow as she looked up at him.

He led her into the dining room. She glanced at the clock and hazily registered that it was suppertime. There was something she was supposed to remember about supper. What was it? Oh yes. She had prepared the meal herself. _Well_, she thought, _better not to mention it until I'm sure he likes it alright._

"Mudbuggle is as undeserving as I recalled," said Lucius with contempt, having seated himself and fussed with his napkin in preparation for the meal.

"What's this about blackmail?" inquired Ginny.

Her companion shook his head with disgust. "I donated money to Fudge, if you recall. He was willing to let me go if I feathered his purse now and then, and in light of my family's tragic circumstances. But now that he's been replaced, Mudbuggle wishes to convict me all over again."

The redhead took in a sharp breath. "You can't be serious."

"Indeed I am," said Lucius. "He met with me today to make a proposition – that I aid him in bringing down the few Death Eaters who escaped trial, and he will consider me, 'a changed man' and allow me to go free. He's quite mad, of course. And as a former Auror, he can think of nothing he likes better than to drag out every poor sod who was once known to dabble in dark magic."

"That seems shabby," said Ginny thoughtfully. "To force you to betray your old friends and compatriots for your own freedom, which was supposedly already secured." She hurriedly thanked Cappy for spooning some pasta onto her plate. "Are you going to do it?"

"I've already begun," said the wizard. His companion said nothing in return, so he added, "I simply _cannot_ go back to Azkaban, Ginevra. One month in the place would kill me, I'm convinced of it. I was nearly dead when I was released last time, and then I believed I still had a son to come home to."

Ginny noted the pleading tone in his voice as if he wished for her approval of his decision, though she was somewhat hurt that he didn't consider her important enough to sustain his thoughts in prison, as had Draco, apparently. "I don't blame you," she said softly. She watched him eat for a few moments, thinking over what he'd just told her. She would certainly never betray her own friends in that manner…but then, they'd been on the side of good. It wasn't as if those missing Death Eaters didn't deserve it. At one point she would have felt Lucius deserved it. Looking at him now, eating contentedly, she couldn't bear the thought of him suffering for a single day in that rotting prison.

"How do you like the dinner?" she asked.

"It's quite good. I'm surprised, I didn't know Cappy was capable of such cooking, this is nothing like his usual. You'll have to present my compliments to him."

Ginny almost corrected his assumption, then stopped herself, reconsidering. "I'm glad. When do you have to go into the ministry again? Do you know how long the process will take?"

"I have another appointment day after tomorrow," said Lucius. "I can't say how long…I suppose he plans to keep me until they're all caught," he frowned as the implications of that statement dawned on him, "I do hope it doesn't take very long."

Ginny sighed. That spring walk would just have to wait.

Closing A/N: Sorry it's taking me so long to get the chapters up these days. I'm currently working on a screenplay besides this story, and I seem to be up to my ears in correspondence – which all pretty much amounts to nothing, when you know my writing personality (tending towards the obsessive when I'm in the mood). I may slow down sometimes, but I promise I will never abandon this fic altogether. I'm too close to the end for that. :) Erm…what can I say? I've been stricken with so many different ideas for this story lately that sometimes I'm not sure in which direction to take it. I think I've more or less figured out that path now though, so hopefully the updates will be more swiftly coming. Thanks for sticking with me!


	14. Stigmata

A/N: Um, sorry it's taken so long. This was really hard to write, since it required a certain emotional state from me to compose it. This chapter is dedicated to everyone who liked chapter seven!

To the reviewers: Thank you all _so_ much. You keep me going on this, and I really can't tell you how much I appreciate your positive feedback. I'm so spoilt, but I love it. :D

To a few in particular, who asked questions or wrote really long reviews (sorry I can't answer all of you anymore, but if I did it would take a few more days for me to post this chapter) –

_Duchess-Emily_: You rock, and I enjoyed emailing you. I'm sorry I haven't written in a while, I've been so bad about writing of all kinds lately (school you know, it just does that)! Hope this chapter lives up. _ParvisSira_: Er, no…he's not cheating on her. Though that's a good idea! It's just not quite where this fic is going. It's so awesome that you noticed Ginny adapting to fit Lucius' lifestyle and personality. That rocks my socks, I thought no one had noticed. :D _Eryn_: Thank you so much for encouraging me to write, and finish this fic. You know I love you. :) _slate-one_: ::buzzer:: Nope, sorry. I assumed they were smart enough to use contraceptive spells. But you'll see. ;) _Daughter of Doom_: I know, I write way slow. I wrote nice and fast at first, but then life got in the way (darn life!). Thank you for your sweet comments about my writing style! _Quills 'N Ink_: Oh wow. Yay, another one joins the ranks! Glad you stuck with it. :) _The Mad Madame_: Oh yes, very astute. Good thinking! Thanks for reading. _Jo_: Oh those have to be the best comments I've gotten in a long time! :D Thank you terrifically. My writing ego definitely needed the boost. :D I do know one other good Lucius story, written by my friend RunespoorOracle. She's reviewed a few times, so if you just locate her screen name then you can peruse her (all very well-done) works. _Red Satin and Black Silk_: You shall see, oh yes, you shall see. ;)

Disclaimer: I still don't own it. But I'm going to own a copy of _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ in less than seven months!

_Chapter fourteen_ – _Stigmata_

It was a surprisingly cold spring. After a few days of warmth and the promise of pleasant afternoons dotted with white, puffy clouds and the fresh smell of budding spring flowers, the weather took a turn for the worse and the delicate buds and small shoots of green grass were all but destroyed by freezing rain and sleet. Winter lingered on every tree branch, in the sky, and in within the looming, dark towers of Malfoy Manor, where it was necessary to keep fires going and warm blankets on the bed far later into the season than usual. The frost crept onto the windowpanes once more in the pattern of ferns, and early in the morning the trees were as silvery white as a fabled fairy city, the few leaves that had adorned them turning brown and yellow and dropping off as if infested by the ghosts of autumn, who would not see their woods turn to spring.

Losing track of time and now the seasons, Ginny often found herself confused into thinking it was the fall season all over again, only to remember with a start that it was, in fact, spring. She spent long hours by the fire, reading and writing, as her days became a lethargic haze of boredom and loneliness. Lucius spent every weekday at the ministry, keeping regular work hours. At home he was often quiet and melancholy, his social inclinations at a minimum. In the beginning he seemed to enjoy getting away from home to work, but as the task dragged out Ginny became aware of some underlying distress on his part, though he wouldn't speak a word of it to her.

He was becoming distant again, almost as much so as he had been when she first arrived, though far less conversational. Their intimacy became infrequent, as fatigue came over him from working harder than he had in years. At night they sat in the drawing room as they once had, reading and relaxing, always separate, only a few words passing between them. Ginny stared at him in the long silences, watching the shadows under his eyes darken day by day.

And yet sometimes in bed at night Lucius clung to her as if holding on to his very life. No matter what doubts had sprung into her mind during the day, they vanished instantly, her heart melted, and she felt she belonged to him entirely.

On several occasions she begged to be allowed to accompany him to the Ministry. "Both my parents work there!" she protested one morning. "They don't have to know I'm with you, but I know they would love to see me…" She trailed off at his silence, the look in his eyes telling her all she needed to know.

"Lucius," she sighed, "I'm so tired of being alone." For one moment his resolve melted and he gathered her to him in his arms with a great sigh. "They would ask too many questions, my dear," he said at length, kissing the top of her head. He mentally kicked himself - he had almost relented in his desire for her happiness. He knew she hated staying alone all day long, and indeed, he hated being separated from her. But how could he tell her without giving her false hope? He would never allow her out of the house. Never.

…

Ginny pulled her cloak on over her satin nightgown, shivering in the crisp morning air. Lucius was already gone and his side of the bed was cold and empty and no longer comfortable to sleep in. She padded across the chilly wood floor with bare feet and rooted around in the closet for a pair of worn, lace-up brown boots which she quickly slipped on her feet, tying them carelessly in her haste. She grabbed a knobbly brown and maroon woolen hat from her dresser drawer – a Christmas present from Hermione in their Hogwarts days, hand knitted - and plunked it unceremoniously on her head, over her tousled red hair.

It took her only a moment to run down the three flights of stairs, and another to slip out the kitchen door before Cappy accosted her with breakfast.

The hem of her cloak became wet and heavy as it dragged over the dewy grass, but she didn't notice. Morning walks were her wont of late, early, sometimes even before Lucius had left. Somehow the day's confinement seemed easier to bear when it followed a brisk walk in the open countryside.

She picked out a deer path and followed it through the woods, pulling her cloak tightly around herself in the cold wind. She knew not whither she wandered, only that the trees called to her in a language felt deep within. She brushed aside branches and bracken with gloveless hands, cold and pale as marble in the early morning frost.

The path lead through the copse and into a dry creek bed, a seeming path in itself. Ginny paused to stare down at the mossy undergrowth, her mind wandering beyond the trees and the cold morning.

_Where was I at this time a year ago?_

School. Preparing for NEWTS.

She sighed. It seemed like years since then, not a mere twelve months.

_I was happy then_, she thought.

Was she not happy now? Certainly not when she languished for hours alone in the cold and dark manor. But surely Lucius made her happy?

Did he?

She sighed again. Yes, he had when he was home, when he was her constant companion…but now…she hated being alone. All her life she'd been surrounded by people, her large family, the students at Hogwarts, the Order. The darkness seemed farther away when she was surrounded by people…the darkness that threatened to envelop her at any time.

Get a grip, she told herself, plodding along.

At length she came to a clearing and paused to master her thoughts. She didn't know how much longer of the cold, wet dark she could take – it struck one through to the bones, and the heart. _I have to get out of the cold for a while,_ she thought.

There was a building ahead of her. It was ancient by the look of it, an old servant's quarters perhaps, or some sort of out building.

She tried the door when she reached it, and to her surprise found it unlocked and easy to move. She stepped inside, feeling the hard, ridged pattern of a stone floor beneath the soles of her shoes. Turning, her breath was taken away by what she saw.

Brilliant sun peeking through a hole in the cloud cover filtered through a large, delicately paned stained glass window, casting light in a dozen pastel colours over Ginny and the wall behind her. At the far end of the room, which was not terribly large but was sizable enough for its purpose, was an alter made of stone and beside it a marble table for lighting votive candles. Any candles that had been there had long since rotted away, or been carried off by mice, but Ginny knew its use nonetheless. The thing that most caught her eye, though, was the crucifix on the wall behind the alter. It was a beautiful thing of painted stone, and seemed almost living in the light cast by the stained glass window. The sad-eyed Christ stared at her, almost as if it could see her sins and offered its silent forgiveness.

She choked, suddenly filled to the brim with tears she didn't even know she had. The weight of her sudden outburst bowed her to the ground, and there she lay, prostrated before the image, crying as if a reservoir in her soul had been opened up.

_My God, my God_, she cried, _what is this darkness in my heart?_

The image gave her no reply, but stared at her still. Through her tears it almost seemed to be crying with her.

Cried out at last, Ginny wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and stood up, silent as the stone figure, and made her way back to the manor.

She would find some candles and return later, when it was warmer.

Closing A/N: My poor Eryn was wondering if I would ever actually write more. This chapter was difficult to compose as I mentioned, and I know its short, but at least you guys know I'm still working on it. The end is coming soon. :D I just have to build it properly. With school and everything I can't promise the next will be out any sooner, but I'll really try to write it in a reasonable time. Hopefully everyone who was reading this silly little story of mine hasn't forgotten about it by now! :D


	15. The Hours

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and I don't pretend to. Often.

A/N: I really can't believe how pedestrian some of my writing from the beginning of this fic is. Thank you guys so much for sticking with it, and giving me a chance to prove I can write something thoughtful (or at least I like to imagine it's thoughtful…I'll probably reread it in a few months and think, "Yikes!"). :D You all rock my socks. Betcha didn't think I'd update so quickly, eh? Yeah, I didn't either.

Red Satin and Black Silk: Sorry my friend, too cliché for my taste. This story has enough clichés in it as it is. :D brunette89 – Oh wow. It's comments like yours that keep me writing. :) Duchess Emily – Aw, sweet Duchess. I look forward to catching up with you! Hope you like this one too.

Chapter Fifteen – _The Hours_

The sun was just rising fully into position when Ginny made her way across the dew laden field. The last few days had been warm, warmer than it had been since she had come to stay at the Manor, and now it was a beautiful, clear, emerald tinted morning in May. All the last month she had trodden the frozen ground, day by day, but still it seemed at this promising sunrise that she had won a new freedom with the more temperate weather to walk farther and longer than she usually did.

She was walking a different way than usual, away from the chapel and towards something else, that mystical haven that had so plagued her mind lately…the Road. It had been a long time since she'd seen the Road. It had been a long time since she'd seen anything at all besides the Manor and the grounds, and the little, rundown chapel she called her sanctuary. Eventually she had ceased asking Lucius to take her with him into the city, for no matter how she begged he wouldn't budge. Then the loneliness was almost too great a burden to bear, and darkness seemed to envelop her day by day, but now she hardly felt it. Indeed, she hardly felt anything.

She knew deep inside she still loved her lonely chapel and enjoyed her walks, and she felt a far away sense of pleasure every time Lucius hugged or kissed her, and at the sound of his voice, but aside from those things her emotions had reached a frozen state.

There was nothing.

Day in, and day out…

There was nothing. Nothing by the routine: arise, walk, bathe, eat, write, eat, sleep, arise again. Sometimes he talked to her, broke her silence, and she listened and even responded, but afterwards she could never recall what they had talked about.

And yet…she felt something when she thought of the Road, that great expanse beyond the Malfoy property. It almost seemed as if something outside her will drew her to it. Her knee length teal dress blew gaily in the breeze as she strode relentlessly down the straight pathway to the road. She couldn't remember if there was a gate there, or any markings at all to note where the footpath became the Road - a brick post…anything…but she knew she would recognize it.

Her sun-starved skin soaked in the bright light and glowed with a health and vigor unseen in some time. Her hair shone in that light, and a passer by would have been stricken with her comeliness and the strangely resolute expression on her youthful face. But she would not have noticed them, or cared what they thought of her – she was too lost in the obscure world of her mind.

At last she reached it. She knew it, as she had seen it in her mind…the white gravel of the country road spreading out in front of her like a solid white stream. For a moment she paused, admiring it, the Road she had seen in her dreams (or merely fantasies, perhaps). She had no plan, no destination, but without a thought she stepped onto it. And stopped. She hadn't meant to stop, why did she stop? She tried to take a step forward, but she couldn't. She couldn't budge. She took a step backwards using all her strength and nearly fell, for there was no resistance that way. But forward…no, she could not go forward. She walked a few steps away and ran pell-mell towards the Road, but she slammed up against what could only be described as an invisible wall. Dazed, she stood back and stared.

A magical force-field? A magic wall? Why?

She turned around with an enormous sigh and walked back to the house.

…

It plagued her all the rest of the day, the question – why the magic wall? Was it to keep trespassers out...or _her_ in? Twice she almost asked Cappy if he had known about it, but in her heart she felt he didn't. The wall was certainly all Lucius. And it hadn't always been there.

…

Lucius emerged from the bathroom that night naked. She knew what he wanted, but for the first time since the physical part of their affair began, she didn't. Yet when he came to her she received him, and as usual he worked hard to please her. Eventually his efforts paid off. But this only inflamed her already growing anger towards him…she hardly slept that night.

….

The next morning she was up bright and early and dressed by the time he left the house. She buttoned the sweater over her dress – for it was chillier that morning – and carefully tucked her wand into the pocket. Surely there had to be some spell that would undo the magic wall. She was determined, at least, to try everything she could think of to get rid of it. She had no idea what she would do once it was gone, but the very thought of it being there ate at her and possessed her mind, till she was consumed with it. The long walk seemed shorter with her thoughts thus preoccupied, and she didn't even notice the chill.

For the better part of the morning she tried every spell she could think of on the wall of magic, but to no avail. At last in frustration she threw herself at it with a shout of rage and was jarringly bounced back to the ground where she lay panting with exhaustion and frustration. At last she arose and trudged back to the manor, defeated.

Her mind came back over and over to the same question – _why was it there?_ And for that matter…why was _she_ there?

_You don't really want out that badly, Ginevra_, she told herself, _or else you would have told Hermione to come get you. She could get past that wall. But why don't you want to leave?_

"I _DO_ WANT TO LEAVE!" she shouted to the house at large, then jumped when she realized all that volume and anger came from her own little voice.

She sat down on the bed in the room she and Lucius shared and stared out the window. They were coming back. All her feelings. All the loneliness, sadness, frustration, rage and everything that had been plaguing her…it was all coming back.

And that question again, _why didn't she leave?_

She stood up with a start and pitched a vase from the bedside table across the room, watching it shatter into thousands of tiny, glittering pieces. She stared at it for the longest time, those pieces of glass pricking her mind, forcing her to answer her own question.

_Because you love him. _

_You love him, and you think maybe, in your childish heart that he cares for you too, and somewhere deep inside…you can't force yourself to leave because, oh heaven forbid, it might hurt him. Oh stupid, stupid Ginevra. He doesn't love you, _she mocked herself, _he__ won't even let you out of the house. You're his slave._

And then she wept, long and hard, throwing herself across the bed.

…

When Lucius came home that evening she was waiting for him, she hugged and kissed him and asked him how his day had been, but more even than usual he was stricken with how strange she seemed, how cold. Her smile was painted on. He chatted with her through dinner, and afterwards sat with her on the couch in the library, running a hand over her smooth red hair. She said nothing. He privately puzzled over her strange behavior.

She let him touch her, she let him hold her, but her heart was unmistakably elsewhere. This strange, automated coldness reminded him of…of his deceased wife, not his fiery Ginevra.

Had he done this to her? By leaving her alone too many hours? And if so, what was to be done about it? He glanced down at her passive expression as they both gazed at the fire. It was too late, he felt, for any remedy. If he took her with him to the ministry next time, or even just into London for a bit of shopping, he feared he would never see her again.

And that would ruin everything. His plan, of course, but moreover – loath as he was to admit it to himself – he didn't think coming home from the ministry every day would be bearable without her there. When was it going to end? When would they be through with him? He feared the answer. He knew what Mudbuggle was doing, keeping him coming every day. He knew he was being carefully observed, and it was enough to drive him mad. An upstart like Mudbuggle, keeping _Lucius__ Malfoy _under his thumb. In the old days, Lucius would have only needed extend a hand and dangle a few knuts…and Mudbuggle would be gone forever.

Intolerable.

But dwelling on all this was bringing him no nearer a solution to the question of Ginevra. Was there a solution? He listened to her steady, deep breathing beside him. She had fallen asleep.

He decided to talk with her about it tomorrow evening.

But by then it would be too late.

_To be continued…_

Closing A/N: The end is nigh!


	16. Twilight Time

Opening A/N: Okay, so I sincerely apologize for taking like, a year to update. I know waiting that long to see what is going to happen in a story you like is pretty much torture, and quite possibly most of you who started out reading this fic when it was first posted don't care about it anymore. I don't blame you! In my defense, I have had a tremendous amount on my plate lately, with school and work and the care of an ailing parent. Most of the time I've been too tired to write emails to dear friends, let alone an entire chapter of a story! Things have calmed down just a little though, and I swore to myself I would finish this fic, one way or another (and soon). So here you go, here's what is probably the second to last chapter – I may write two more, but I think what is yet to be written will fit into one. If you're reading this, then thanks for sticking with me!

Chapter 16: Twilight Time

"Ginevra, you're here," said Lucius, hastily making his way across the marble floor. "I was afraid you would be out again." She ran into the large entry way to meet him and he pulled her to himself in an ardent embrace, kissing her cheek and running his fingers through her hair. "I couldn't stop thinking about you today, my dear. I confess my mind was on you when it ought to have been on other things." He smiled warmly, his grey eyes twinkling.

Ginny soaked him in, every sensory pleasure he gave her – his warmth, the fragrant scent of his cologne mixed with the smoke of the Ministry fireplaces, the feeling of his soft hand on her cheek, his full-throated voice as it caressed her with words…and the sheer masculinity of him, deliciously concealed behind his shapeless cloak. From somewhere upstairs a radio was tuned into the Wizard Wireless Network, and the strains of an old muggle love song wafted down to meet their ears.

Heavenly shades of night are falling

It's Twilight Time

Out of the mist your voice is calling

Tis Twilight Time

When purple colored curtains mark the end of day

I'll hear you, my dear at Twilight Time

Ginny couldn't resist the sweetness of his lips, which she took to her own and plied with all her sweet feelings until it seemed they had melted into one another. She leaned into him, one arm over his shoulder, her other hand in his, and let his kiss take her beyond paradise.

This is what it was about. This is what love was about.

Deepening shadows gather splendor

As the day is done

Fingers of night will soon surrender

The setting sun

Slowly they revolved, caught up in the music, two lovers at Twilight Time. Lucius spun her once, pulled her back to him and they leaned into one another as their feet moved, their eyes feasting on one another and their endless passion and joy.

I count the moments darling

Till you're here with me

Together at last at Twilight Time

Ginny leaned back with a stifled giggle as he dipped her. He brought her back to him and softly kissed her neck, his hand running down her back and stirring up shivers of pure delight.

Deep in the dark your kiss will thrill me  
Like days of old  
Lighting the spark of love that fills me  
With dreams untold  
Each day I pray for evening just  
To be with you  
Together at last at twilight time

Together, at last at Twilight Time

Ginny awoke with a gasp and pawed at the covers. She wondered groggily where Lucius had gone, suddenly shivering in the morning chill. The dream still lingered in her mind like a faraway reality, a recent memory…so vivid, so real, she almost felt as if when she closed her eyes again he'd be there with her, loving her.

But he wasn't.

She was still alone, as before, as ever; utterly and completely alone, alone as she had not been since her first year at Hogwarts, when her soul belonged to the Dark Lord. Sometimes she felt as if a part of him was still there, deep within her deepest darkness; that dark part of her responded wholly to Lucius. In the beginning he was like a drug, a hypnotic dance, inescapable and entirely alluring. But since he had been gone, the spell was being broken.

Ginny arose and looked around her. The light was trailing in through the windows, painting splashes of brilliant color all around the room. She realized with a shock that she had slept quite late, and her partner was long since gone. She walked to the window and looked out at the brilliant emerald lawn and the shady trees, at the enticing spring foliage, but the grounds no longer appealed to her.

Nor did the manor.

It was time to leave.

…

When Lucius arrived home from the ministry that evening, it was to a quiet house. The stillness was unnerving; it seemed that even the sound of his footsteps upon the marble floor in the great hall were muffled, as if someone had cast a silencing spell upon the entire manor.

He opened his mouth to call for Ginevra, but quickly shut it again when his ears finally detected a small sound in the looming quiet – the sound of a song playing, scratchy and canned, as if it were being played on an ancient phonograph. It was coming from upstairs; he could hear it more clearly now as he approached the stairwell.

Lucius mounted the staircase, absently contriving to make as little noise as possible. Why it was important he not make any noise, he couldn't say, yet it was the notion that planted itself in his brain and he went with it.

Something was not quite right. The silence downstairs. The strange tinny sound of the record playing in the distance. The house felt strange…empty. With a chill, Lucius knew what was wrong. As he alighted in the landing of the second floor, proceeded down the hall into what turned out to be his room, following the sound of the record, he knew what he would find.

More emptiness.

Her things were gone; all her gowns and robes in the closet, her brushes and cosmetics on the dressing table, her books, once in a pile at the side of the bed for easy access…all gone. Empty.

Turning, Lucius ran out of the room and down the hall, pelted down the stairs and through the great hall. He barely slowed to wrench open the great, heavy oaken doors. "Ginevra!" he shouted into the surrounding silence. There was no reply, but he ran on, heedless, out the door, and down the gravel path in front of the house.

After running for almost a quarter of a mile, Lucius spotted a figure wearing a grey cloak, seated on a large trunk. Ginevra!

Breathlessly he approached her. "What are you doing?" he asked. She was quiet for a moment, and then slowly she said, "I'm leaving. Is that not obvious?"

Lucius drew in a sharp breath. "Leaving? Why…?"

Finally, Ginny turned to face him. "Why am I leaving? In all your infinite wisdom, Mr. Malfoy, you don't know why I'm leaving?" Her eyebrows were narrowed, and she met his gaze with a fixed stare.

"I'm tired of you," she said coldly. "I'm sick to death of this place, of being alone, and being used. Yes, used! In all these hours you have left me alone, confining me to your horrid and cold manor, you never thought I would awake from the spell you had me under? That in all that time alone to think I wouldn't realize how you've been using me? You don't love me! You don't even care about me! I don't know why I ever believed you did! It's not like you ever said so." Her voice quavered.

"All you want is someone to make as miserable as yourself!"

Lucius stared at her silently, his cold grey eyes blinking at her tirade. Where had this come from?

"I can't stand it anymore! I don't want to be your plaything any longer, locked up like a toy, to be put away when it isn't wanted! I want to be free, and…I want to be myself again, just Ginny, not the pretend Mistress of Malfoy Manner, or Miss Weasley, or Ginevra, just plain Ginny!" She was fuming now, halfway between white-hot anger and bitter tears.

"I'm tired of being your whore!" she screamed.

"Have I not given you everything?" asked Lucius quietly. "Have I not made you far more comfortable than your penniless, muggle-loving parents could ever wish? What more do you want?"

"I don't know what I want, but it isn't this," said Ginny. "Something besides being the mistress of a ruined man." She steadied her voice. "I want freedom."

Lucius studied her face for almost a full minute, holding an internal debate with himself. Slowly, he asked, "what if I gave you the freedom and legitimacy you crave?"

The red-headed witch began to shake her head, but asked instead, her eyes narrowed, "what do you mean?"

"You call yourself the _Pretend Mistress of Malfoy Manor_," said the blond wizard slowly, "what if I made you the official Mistress? Would you stay? If I gave you the freedom to go to Diagon Alley, or wherever you wish to go, whenever you wish it…if I gave you a bank account of your own, and a title, the title of the Honorable Mrs. Malfoy, would you stay? Would you be happy then? Ginevra, I am no longer accorded the honor I deserve for my bloodline, assets, or position, but still I may offer you much. Would you be wise and accept, or would you be a fool and go back into the world no better off than you were before you came to me?"

Ginny gaped. "Are…are you asking me to marry you?" she stammered. Of all the reactions she had ever pictured when she imagined leaving him, it was not this.

The wizard nodded.

"Does this mean you love me?" asked Ginny incredulously.

"Yes," said Lucius, wondering if it was a lie. "Come, let me help you carry your trunk back to the house."

…

Ginny was asleep beside him, the moonlight cast through the open window glowing on her naked skin. Lucius stared at her, pleased with himself. Perhaps this was not part of his original plan, but what of it? A new mistress of the manor, an heir or two perhaps, and what's more…her decision to be his wife would anger the miserable Weasley father almost as much as her indiscretion with his greatest enemy of old.

And did Lucius love her? Perhaps. Certainly he possessed her, and that alone gave him a great deal of joy. Was joy a part of love? So he had heard. Then perhaps, perhaps he loved her.


	17. Epilogue

A/N: Sorry for the SERIOUSLY long wait, my friends! I'm sure some of you wondered if this story was dead from time to time, and I'm not gonna lie…I wondered that myself occasionally. But it was always my intention to finish it, come hell or high water (or, as the case may be, an English degree and new fandoms), and finished it is!! Some of you may not like the ending. I'm prepared for that, and I have been all along, because this was always the end I had planned. Bittersweet, just like I like 'em. :D Hope this is angsty enough for ya, Moony my (best) friend.

. . .

_Epilogue_

Lucius and Ginny were married in a discreet ceremony at the end of the summer. It was a glorious summer; full of shimmering sunlight and striking sunsets, bright green foliage and misty mornings, with less rain than usual.

Ginny's happiness at becoming the legitimate mistress of Malfoy Manor was eclipsed by her family's reactions, however. Hermione still loved her, and Fleur, who didn't understand the Weasley hatred of all things Malfoy, promised to bring Bill around, but Ron and the twins were angry, and Mr. Weasley couldn't even look at his daughter. She had broken his heart.

Ginny didn't want to know what Harry thought. He was mercifully absent from the proceedings.

News traveled fast around the wizarding world. It didn't take a month before Ginny was addressed as "Mrs. Malfoy" without prompting by attending shop assistants and old acquaintances in Diagon Alley. Yet, as much pleasure as her new title gave her, Ginny noticed something strange about the way people treated her.

There was a reserve between her and everyone she met, something she was not used to with her usually friendly and outgoing personality. She had not expected people to react positively to her marriage to Lucius Malfoy, but the reality was far worse than her expectations. She was considered a traitor by many. Sometimes she heard whispers before she entered a room, whispers of what she had "done" to Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world…

It was too much to bear. So she ignored it. It didn't take the new Mrs. Malfoy long to learn to hold her head up high, ignore the talk and turn up her nose at anyone who dared to accuse her of anything. Some people began saying there was really no difference between Ginny and the old Mrs. Malfoy.

The marriage was pleasant enough for Lucius, however. He was more accepted in polite society than he had been in years, and he had long ago learned to tune out the whispers and gossip of others and sneer in the face of open contempt. People said he had done something to the Weasley girl, something horrible perhaps, to make her marry him. At the very least, they assumed he had somehow slipped her a love potion. How else could the strange union have happened?

. . .

Lucius and Ginny had two sons; Septimius, the elder, who was tall and blond and very much like his father, and Alonso, the younger one, who had strawberry blond hair and mostly reminded Ginny of her brother Percy, but had rare moments when she almost saw Fred and George in him.

Septimius was predictably in Slytherin, and he did well winning friends and comrades. Ginny loved him of course, but he belonged to his father. Alonso, however, was placed in Ravenclaw, and Ginny loved him with a fierce pride that eclipsed everything else in the life she had made for herself.

Alonso was accepted into the Weasley home in a way Septimius, Lucius, and even Ginny herself would never be. Perhaps this made up for the difficulty in which Alonso carved a niche for himself in Ravenclaw. Even though the war with Voldemort was long over, it was still difficult for anyone bearing the Malfoy name to make friends outside of Slytherin house. When he reached fourteen, Alonso tried out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and scored the position of seeker, which did much to advance his social status among his housemates. When he graduated from Hogwarts and began a career at the ministry, Ginny cried tears of joy and pride.

. . .

A little over twenty years from Lucius's proposal, Ginny admitted him to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. His heart was weak – the years in Azkaban coupled with intensive torture by the cruciatus curse at the hands of Voldemort had weakened Lucius's heart beyond even the craft of the St. Mungo's healers.

"He doesn't have long," a sympathetic nurse told Ginny. There were long hours spent in the quiet hospital room, listening to the sound of rain on the windows mixed with Lucius' slow breathing. Sometimes Ginny held his hand, sometimes she read to him and sometimes she just sat and watched him, but she was always with him, afraid she would miss his last breath.

"You were so beautiful," he whispered one evening, "The day you came to me." She gently stroked his hand, smiling down at him.

"You teased me about being at the mercy of a strange man," she recalled.

"I never expected to keep you all these years," said the wizard. "But I am certainly not sorry I did."

Ginny leaned in closer, lowering her voice. "You did though, didn't you? You did want to keep me that first day." She continued stroking his hand. "Over the years I have realized my coming to you wasn't an accident. You always had some plan. What was it? To get even with my father? I don't know. I don't even care anymore. But…it was a plan, wasn't it?"

Lucius was silent for a moment.

"Yes," he said hoarsely. "But what of it? We have two sons. We spent more than twenty years together. Does it matter anymore?"

Ginny sighed, and smiled a bitter smile. "No my dear, it doesn't matter at all." She stroked his hand until he fell asleep.

. . .

A few days later Lucius passed away. The day of his funeral dawned cold and grey, a light rain falling like slow tears from the clouds overhead. Only a few people attended; Ginny, Alonso, Septimius, Hermione, Bill and Fleur, Severus Snape, and a few wizards from the ministry. One by one, each guest hugged Ginny or shook her hand and told her how sorry they were for her loss.

She met their gazes through wet eyelashes and thanked them quietly.

As they she left the graveyard, Ginny looked back at Lucius' grave one last time.

For the first time in twenty years, she was free.

THE END

Closing note: Thank you, everyone, who read and reviewed this fic!! You rock! Now that it's finally finished, I will be editing it and cleaning it up to my satisfaction, but it will stay more or less the same. Thanks for sticking with me. 


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